Backstage at the Fiserv Forum
“Calm down. You will all join my flock, forever. There is no escape. For it is a joyous and righteous day, as I sit upon you from my new throne.”
Mere moments after she highjacked Barbie-Q’s promo and brazenly took credit for Rah, High Flyer, and Darin Zion earning matches at Bottomline, Sunny O’Callahan peered over her dark-rimmed glasses at the backstage monitor and watched another hijacking- otherwise known as High Flyer’s escapades in Rah’s bus.
“Alright, I guess your Sun God isn’t going to show up to protect you. Just so you all don’t sue, it wasn’t poison. You’ll be alright. Mostly. It was just really old. You may spend more time in the bathroom than you anticipated. See, I was trying to draw out the hero, the God of Sun… whatever. You understand…”
Resembling an archetypical California beach blonde save for the fact that her place of birth was Ireland and she still had a slight hint of a Irish accent in her voice, she watched and grinned as High Flyer’s descent into total and complete madness continued. A quick peek down revealed the ever-present BI Incorporated EX-600 Ankle Monitor Bracelet Tracer with the green flashing light that kept her tethered to Rah’s entourage by directive of the Camden County Missouri Court of Common Pleas- all part of her work probation to keep her out of jail.
While she was alone at the moment, away from the always watching eyes of Barbie-Q, she’s never truly by herself. The usual run of the mill of people backstage withstanding, for the moment all the indignities that’s she’s suffered are forgotten.
“While I’m out here tryin’ ta poking the hero, he’s too busy pokin’ the girl at a Buffet! As if he could ever be YOUR God. Idiot sheeple.”
At least Rah was far, far away- in Boston as a matter of fact with that has-been bitch he married, Dawn McGill. Still incredulous over the fact that Rah chose McGill instead of her, Sunny savored every single second of the action as it unfolded like an IPA connoisseur fawning over a Demon Haze IPA at one of Milwaukee’s high end micro brewerys as High Flyer took a major proverbial dump on Rah’s legacy and more so, his property.
Sunny beamed with pride. In her mind, she created all this. This was her masterpiece. This was her moment. In her mind, this would cement her – Sunny O’Callahan – in other people’s mind as one of the elite managers and best wrestling minds in all of pro wrestling. Where she’d failed miserably at the Definitive Erasure with Defective Marty Pratt over a month ago, she more than made up for in engineering this war between a sunshine drenched doofus who’d rather be at a Jimmy Buffett concert than apply himself to reach his full potential inside a wrestling ring- Rah, and a legend who’d fallen on hard times and literally lost his mind- High Flyer.
After this piece of brilliance she’d just pulled off, O’Callahan figured her phone would soon be blowing up. Sunny believed everyone would come calling for her services now as Refueled 71 went back to the ring for the Eli Dresden-Jace Parker Davidson match. She turned to head back towards the dressing room and bumped into something… or someone.
Dawn McGill: Oh. Hi!
Sunny finds herself looking up at (NOTE: Sunny is just five foot nine- McGill is six foot tall) at the blonde who had come up to her from behind while she watched the High Flyer segment. Her eyes widen when she got full view of McGill’s face. She had pale make up on with strange Egyptian markings up and down her face, black lipstick, and mummy-ish rags on.
But Dawn did wear a snazzy pair of nice heels for the occasion. The extra three inches made her tower over the diminutive Irishwoman.
Dawn McGill: Sunny O’Callahan I presume?
Sunny manages a smile. A weak smile. But yet a smile.
Dawn McGill: My name is Dawn McGill. Or otherwise known as… Rah’s wife.
Dawn holds up her left hand so the camera can get a nice close up of the spectacular wedding ring Rah had purchased for her.
Finally able to respond to Dawn’s science fiction make up, Sunny points at her.
Sunny O’Callahan: What the-
Chuckling, Dawn looks down at the bandages and mummy-type stuff she has wrapped around her body.
Dawn McGill: Oh yeah. This. You see, Rah’s been kind of down since you gave High Flyer the keys to his bus and he drove off with that, his golden chair of solitude, and his regal collection of every film Sofia Boutella’s been ever in. So to make him feel better…
She points to herself.
Dawn McGill: …I dressed up like Sofia Boutella in that crappy The Mummy remake four years ago.
Sunny stares back at her blankly. She wasn’t overly concerned about the symbolism in Dawn’s outfit tonight. She more concerned about the symbolism of her being here – in Milwaukee.
Sunny O’Callahan: But if you’re here, that means…
The crowd roar from inside the arena tells the story.
“That’s Rah! The Sun God is here! And he’s taking to it High Flyer for stealing his throne!”
Sunny’s jaw drops at the vision of watching Rah spear the ever-living hell out of High Flyer and then brawl with him up and down the back of the bus.
Dawn McGill: Yeah. I guess your little plan didn’t take into consideration the fact I might engineer some sort of ruse to make you think we were in Boston since Jimmy Buffett is playing there tonight. Huh?
Dawn turns to the camera man filming nearby.
Dawn McGill: Yeah don’t worry, we’ll catch the replay on Jimmy’s Facebook page later.
She winks at the camera.
Dawn McGill: But I do wonder if the Bergman’s are having a good time tonight at the show.
The Xfinity Center
It’s late in the night. Joe and Laura Bergman sing along with some friends to Margaritaville, the final song in the set before the encores.
Cut back to McGill in Milwaukee.
Dawn McGill: I betcha they are. Okay. Now, let’s get back to you.
The intense glare of Dawn’s eyes gaze upon the young lady she intends to whap on the nose with a rolled up newspaper like she was an overenthusiastic puppy. Sunny doesn’t get flustered very often. This would be one of those time.
Sunny O’Callahan: Uh huh.
The bus drives off with both High Flyer and Rah still brawling in the back.
Dawn McGill: Well. It seems as if while the…
Dawn did the air quotes thing with her hand with extra mocking added in.
Dawn McGill: …“world’s greatest manager” and “the greatest wrestling mind ever in pro wrestling” was patting herself on the back, she apparently didn’t take into account that I might use my fifteen years or so of wrestling experience to my advantage.
McGill smiles down at an increasingly uncomfortable looking O’Callahan and spreads her mummy-fied arms out wide.
Dawn McGill: Here I am and there is Rah on the bus. Go figure.
Sunny decides it’s time for her to bail.
Sunny O’Callahan: Well. Nice chatting with you but-
She tries to leave but McGill places a strong right hand around Sunny’s arm and prevents her from doing so.
Dawn McGill: So, I hear you’ve been doing a lot of talking the past few weeks. I decided to come to Milwaukee tonight so you and I could have a little girl to girl chat. Doesn’t that sound like fun?
Dawn smiles again. Sunny’s head turns from side to side, trying to find a way out.
Dawn McGill: Here’s the deal Sunny. The way I see it, if not for Rah, your ass would be stuck inside a county lock up in Camden County Missouri. But hey, just say the word and we can drive you to Missouri and return you back to a nice, safe, and secure jail cell. I know you’re ambitious as hell. You’ve gotten a hell of a lot of mileage trashing Rah, trashing me, and trashing everyone sight in order to… how you say… build your brand.
McGill’s smile fades away.
Dawn McGill: Well Sunny. The last time I put you in your place, I was sitting on a witness stand at the trial and shooting holes in all of your petty, made up allegations against Rah. Do you remember that? Ms. Sunny O’Callahan vs. Rah- The Sunshine God. You sued Rah for unlawful termination, a hostile work place, and emotional distress. I watched you sit there in the courtroom and just combust as I went in great detail how you deceived Rah by making up a story that Sutler Reynolds-Kael was responsible for me going away to ‘motivate’ him in the match at March to Glory. I watched your eyes as I explained to the judge how you were the poster child for toxic atmosphere and hostile workplace.
Dawn pauses to hammer the point home.
Dawn McGill: That was when Rah and I weren’t even on speaking terms. But now the rules of engagement have changed, haven’t they.
Again, Dawn shows off the tremendously sparkling rock on her left hand.
Dawn McGill: If you thought I was fiercely loyal to Rah as a friend, try me and find out just how protective I am of him now that I’m his wife. I get that High Flyer’s completely lost his mind. For some reason, he decided to poke the Sunshine God, take his bus, the chair, and those damn Sofia Boutella DVDs. And now Jack Harmen is going to have to pay the price for that at Bottomline. You, on the other hand, you’re cold… you’re calculated… and you know exactly what you’re doing.
The smile returns… albeit with a hint of menace. Of course, part of that stems from McGill being dressed in the guise of a two thousand year old, mummified Egyptian princess who magically comes back to life and begins feeding on people to regenerate her body.
Dawn McGill: Unfortunately for you, I also know what I’m doing. I’ve see just about everything, Sunny-kins. My advice to you chickie? Stop. Stop whatever schemey scheme you’re cooking up. Show up. Shut up. Do your probation quietly and once it’s over and done with if you want to dig around at the bottom of the gene pool, that’s on you. But you listen and listen close. If you try anything. If you do anything… and I do mean anything… that harms or attempts to harm my husband, you’ll beg to go back, you’ll crawl on your hands and knees back to that Camden County jail cell. Do you understand-
Rah’s Voice: DAWN!
McGill’s head snaps around towards the Sunshine God who’s approaching and very happy. Meanwhile, Sunny takes the opportunity presented to her and ducks under Dawn’s arm to make a very hasty exit.
Rah: Rah has secured it back!
Dawn McGill: It? It what, the bus?
Rah: No. No.
Dawn McGill: You didn’t get the bus back? What about the Golden Chair of Solitude?
Rah: No, Rah did not get the Golden Chair of Solitude back. But, that’s okay.
McGill’s face has a quizzical expression.
Rah: Rah won this back.
Rah gleefully opens up the case and shows Dawn. She lets out a sigh.
Dawn McGill: You got back the Sofia Boutella movies on DVD.
Rah: Rah found the movies in the super-secret compartment space in my Golden Chair of Solitude where Rah left them. Then Rah jumped out the back door. But! Rah has Rah’s DVD’s back! Do you know what that means?
Dawn McGill: Oh, I’m pretty sure I know where this is headed.
Rah: MOVIE NIGHT!
And with that, Rah tears off down the hall leaving Dawn facepalming and shaking her head.
Mission Valley State Building Parking Lot
San Diego, California
Thursday August 19th
A crowd of fifty people surrounded a brand, spanking new bus idling in the back of the parking lot at the end of a glorious sunny afternoon in San Diego.
Rah stands on top of the bus. His wife and royal consort Dawn McGill is next to him. On the ground, the ex-Arizona State University sorority girls turned Rah’s followers are too busy trying to call dibs on the seats inside the new, plush bus that Rah purchased… with great sadness… the original bus. A bus that had been sullied by High Flyer and his inedible and borderline toxic ham sandwiches of death.
The sight of Rah standing on top of a bus takes us back to a time, perhaps back in January, when Rah had been booked to face the then HOW World Champion Michael Lee Best and completely got smashed out of his mind on Everclear and unleashed an unbelievably incoherent spew of trash talk that went viral in less than an hour- especially the part where Rah projectile vomited on just about everyone with in fifteen feet of the bus.
Tonight, there’s no projectile vomiting to worry about. Rah is stone cold sober tonight and in incredibly good spirits. He’s casually dressed this evening. The two flaps of his robes opening up to reveal an orange colored ‘What happens in Margaritaville, stays in Margaritaville’ t-shirt underneath.
McGill’s in jeans and a halter top, just right for the upper seventy degree conditions with a nice ocean breeze in the air.
The crowd watches in anticipation. Will Rah actually speak? Or will Dawn McGill?
The answer is… neither.
On the ground, standing to the side of the bus in her “Barbie-Q” t-shirt and a pair of cut off jeans, it’s Barbie-Q and she delivers the word of Rah today.
At Bottomline, it’s going to be Rah versus High Flyer, the Sunshine God versus a man who’s slowly devolving into a pathetic caricature of himself with every passing second.
High Flyer, two weeks ago when you went up against Rah at Refueled 70, you tried to psych us all out by jumping into Rah’s hammock before the match. We were all kind of our last nerve because we had no idea if Rah was going to make to the arena on time and, sure, it might have been funny- for about two seconds- but then incredibly disrespectful to Rah. Thankfully Rah arrived just in time and what happened in the match? Oh. Right. You went out and wet the bed. Yes, you managed to fight out of the Eye of Rahhhh but then you ran right into the Solstice Slam for the one… two… three.
Here’s the thing High Flyer. It was a nice match. Both of you looked good. The fans were entertained as hell and that’s all that matters. You could have let it go right there because that should have been the end of this. But no, that no good bitch Sunny O’Callahan took the keys to the bus and threw them to you after the match. And then you had to go and do it. You took Rah’s bus, defiled his treasured Golden Chair of Solitude, and… yes, you took his prized collection of Sofia Boutella DVD’s. High Flyer, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, what your issue is with Rah, or why you’re doing what you’re doing, but you’re harshing Rah’s buzz. You’ve become an even bigger buzzkill than Jace Parker Davidson.
And that takes some doing, let me tell you.
You see High Flyer, Rah doesn’t go out looking for fights… with anyone. He doesn’t. Rah generally just wants to mosey along with his life and do his thing. I can assure you that Rah has a lot of fun coming out to his ridiculously elaborate entrance and hearing the fans at HOW shows shout his name. Hell, he loves to hear Benny Newell shout out his name. But once the show ends, that where it ends. Rah would rather hang out at Jimmy Buffett shows than to get too caught up in pro wrestling feud. Plus, Rah wants to hang out with his wife Dawn McGill.
Now, as a pro wrestler myself, I completely understand that sometimes these things just happen. And clearly, no one before Refueled 70 would have imagined a scenario where Rah and High Flyer would meet at Bottomline. None. This totally came out of left field.
But. You went full Jim Rome. And you should never go full Jim Rome.
Because, when you literally go full Jim Rome, mock Rah like Romey mocked Jim Everett in 1994 by referring to him as ‘Chris’ Everett, and get into Rah’s grill like you did, well, Rah’s going to go full Jim Everett and knock you on your ass just like Everett did to Romey. Or in other words, Rah’s a big boy and he’s going to respond if you provoke him enough. You’re not the first one. Sutler Reynolds-Kael did the same thing earlier this year and it resulted in a match at March to Glory. That’s okay. It takes a lot to piss him off but congratulations you did it.
High Flyer. I just have to say… what the hell happened to you? You are a legend. Once upon a time, you were one of the best of the best. Watching one of your matches used to be a highlight of a wrestling show. When you came to HOW, Lee Best said he was paying big money to bring High Flyer in… not Jack Harmen… but THE High Flyer. That’s what Lee was expecting but that’s not what Lee got. The High Flyer that came to HOW is just High Flyer in name only- a shell of his former self. It’s sad, really. You did have a nice little feud with Conor Fuse but really, you’ve been phoning it in for quite a while. I don’t think you’re ever going to get back to the classic High Flyer of old… and that’s okay. You’re pushing 44 now. It happens. It’s a fact of life. We all grow older. Look, Rah just turned 38. There’s nothing wrong with it; nothing to be ashamed of. But the fact the matter is that you seem to be going through a prolonged middle life crisis. You’ve become the protagonist in the old Jerry Lee Lewis song “Middle Age Crazy.” You know the line- “he’s middle age crazy, trying to prove he still can.” That’s what Jack Harmen has become. Instead of running with women half your age, buying souped up muscle cars and such, you’ve just plain lost your mind. As unpredictable as you can be, and you are, I’m here to tell you Jack that Dawn McGill will have him ready for you at Bottomline and she will have Rah ready for anything you throw at him. That’s a prom-
Barbie-Q suddenly gets her promo cut off mid-sentence by the sound of Jimmy Buffett’s voice thundering from the state-of-the-art interior stereo system that turned Rah’s brand new bus into a giant boom box.
It was a sign. A sign that Rah was done with talking about his upcoming match with High Flyer and wanted to dance on top of the bus with McGill before they got on the road to Chicago for Bottomline.
“If we didn’t wear you out in part one, we’re going to have to kick your ass in part two.”
And with that, act two of Jimmy Buffett’s July 28th, 2007 show in Alpine Valley, WI kicked off with a Jimmy Buffett-tized cover of the Talking Heads classic ‘Once in a Lifetime.” Rah purchased the show on compact disk from Nugs.net and soon the parking lot outside the Mission Valley State Building transformed into an impromptu Parrothead party.
“And you might find yourself- living on a tropical island
And you might find yourself- in another part of the world
And you may find yourself- on a hill of a large ski resort in Wisconsin
And you may find yourself- on a beautiful boat
With a beautiful hula girl
And you may ask yourself
Well? How did I get here?
While Rah and his followers dance one by one upon the idling bus for the long trip east, a particularly disgruntled Sunny O’Callahan loads Rah’s new gear into one of the side compartments…
And when days go by…”