I laid down in the middle of the mat staring up at the lights. I wasn’t laying down feeling defeated. On the contrary, I never felt more alive in my life. In years past, I’d stare up at the ceiling and wallow in defeat on where it all went wrong. This time, however, things were different. I must have ignited a switch in Frank’s head last week because he gave me the beating of a lifetime. It wasn’t the beating I needed..it was the beating I deserved! No, Frank, you gave me exactly what I asked for! I mean, how am I supposed to measure up if I don’t know what I can tolerate? See…even just a few short years ago, the beating you gave me…especially following our match…would have put me on the shelf for a good amount of time. However, that’s not what happened this time, is it? Perhaps it’s because I have far more inside of myself than I realized. Maybe all it took was a proper beating from hell to really activate it..you know, really know just what I can withstand in that ring. You did exactly what I fucking wanted you to and all I’ve craved since then is MORE! I long for it, I crave it and now you’ve set me up nicely as we inch closer and closer to Rumble at the Rock. It doesn’t hurt you in any way, Frank. You’re set to continue your dominance in HOW but at the same time, allowed me to pursue my limits further. Win-win scenario if I ever thought so myself. So thank you for giving me what I want. Ironically, that brings us to what is set up for this week. It brings me up against a man I’ve known all too well…a man who just found himself in a precarious situation and he doesn’t even know it yet. Funny thing about precarious situations…you never know you’re in them until it’s too late. Hell, that would go double for me as I had more than just my opponent this week. It was the time leading up to my next opponent that was really going to challenge me as I faced my own precarious situation than I’ve ever faced before…
“PETER” STEVENS WILL FAIL THE GOD OF HOW THREE TIMES
It’s truly a funny thing, you know? Here I was…on top of my game…even in defeat. I used to see it just as defeat, but then I learned that there was opportunity in defeat. Frank Dylan James showed me I could have the best of both worlds. He failed to put me down, mentally and physically. I’ll give credit where credit is due…Frank, congrats on your win last week. It may not have much of an impact for you, but for me, it changes the whole game. Turns out I didn’t even have to beg. You took it upon yourself to really batter my ass following your victory last week. I’m no rocket scientist, but I’d say I got inside your head. I honestly lost count how many times you ruthlessly punched me in the god damn face last week and quite frankly, I don’t care. Tasting blood sent a chilling yet fiery shock through my blood that made me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. All I was imagining in that moment was if it were my fists repeatedly bashing some other worthless souls face in. It was a high I simply cannot explain other than the fact that I was mesmerized by it. I wanted more. I craved more and as I laid on that canvas, I was imagining it was me who was unleashing the hate I feel in my heart at the victim I was releasing it on. So again, THANK YOU for you were successful in awakening a monster inside me who should have been awake a long time ago. It may not be unfortunate for you this week, but I can’t say the same for other particular members of the HOW roster.
People like Scott Stevens.
Just the mentioning of his name makes my blood boil. How does a guy like Scott Stevens come back and establish a working relationship with the most high octane name in all of HOW and wrestling itself? How does a guy get that lucky? Luck is and never has been associated with Scott Stevens. I have a hard time even imagining how a guy like Stevens could ever get to where he’s at right now. He’s never been a lucky guy…I know because I’ve seen it over the years too many fucking times!
Stevens, I’m going to be as fucking blunt as my fists will be coming at your face this Sunday as possible. You’re time is limited in the run you’re currently enjoying in HOW right now. I won’t lie…you’ve made all the right moves and have maneuvered your way through HOW in all the right ways right now. The Demi-God himself, Scott Stevens, finding a way to serve at the pleasure of the GOD of HOW himself, Lee Best. But I’m going to be the one to put it as bluntly as possible and one in perspective that only a man like you could understand it as such…
You’re on borrowed time and you don’t even know it yet.
Come on Stevens, you and both know that this current facade you’re entangled in is only going to last a certain amount of times. You really think you’re in the good graces of the GOD of HOW himself? You really think you’re a member of the Board? If anything, you’re an honorary member and not because Lee actually thinks you can help him carry his will and instill his wrath on the rest of the HOW roster. He’s already got a strong enough board to do it without you. But in case you weren’t keeping score…I’ve already defeated two members of his board….and I didn’t have to tout his immaculate glory to do so. I did it by my fucking self. Sure I may have teamed with Xander to take on STRONK and Christopher America…but last I checked it was me who was actually successful in the defeat of the two of them despite America not actually making it down for that match. I’ve got a few words to say to America…but this isn’t the time or place for it right now. But my point is, I didn’t need an all mighty GOD in getting the job done. History says otherwise. Lee knows what I’m capable of doing..I’ve done it for the majority of my career in HOW. Yet I keep finding myself facing members of his Board. Hmmm…I’m no rocket scientist but I’ve seen this song and dance number before. Perhaps he’s testing me again and seeing if he needs to make any adjustments to his current regime. I’ve obviously been the testing foundation of that theory…but I digress.
None of that means jack fuck to me, Stevens. You call yourself the demi-god? Please don’t forgive me on this, but I quite frankly don’t fucking buy any of it. You wanna know the truth, Stevens? You’re on borrowed time and you don’t even see it.
You think a simple match against you is going to rock my world or give me any care in the world about the GOD of HOW’s agenda? No, I don’t. I’ve never had to question what Lee thinks of me. I know he thinks of me constantly because he’s always using me as the measuring stick against his current regime. It’s been a timeless tradition of his to do because I know how he thinks and I know for a fact he thinks very fucking little of you, Stevens. In fact, he can already see your betrayal..and you and him have very differentiating viewpoints of what betrayal is and means.
It’s quite simple, Stevens. You’re his Peter and he already knows it. It’s only a matter of time before you fail him one too many times for him to ignore it…and let’s be fucking real, Stevens, you will fail him to the point where it’s no longer ignorable. It may not be this week…it may not be two months from now…but mark my words…your time is already etched in stone.
I didn’t just beg to continue to fight each and every week. I may have something further to prove…but this time, it’s more than just proving anything. It’s all about that measuring stick and it’s all about climbing back up to the top of that mountain. Only difference between you and me is that I don’t need any fucking help to get there. I’ve proved it once and I’ll prove it again…only this time, I’ll do it with as much fucking violence as fucking possible. You don’t matter to me, Stevens, and I’m going to go out to that ring again on Chaos and prove it once again. You and I have our own storied rivalry in HOW and in almost every single way, I’ve come out on top and left you on that canvas. But this time, I’m going to fucking make an example out of you and I’ll do it with your blood splattered all across that ring.
It took almost all of Frank’s rage to defeat me last week. It was almost with no motivation whatsoever. I can’t place my finger on it…but there’s always some kind of weird motivation I find when facing off against anyone associated with the GOD of HOW. Maybe it’s because I still want to show I can be valuable in ways never seen before.
Do I care if Lee sees something in it? I really don’t fucking care. However, if he wants to use me strictly for violence and as a tool to implore the utmost pain and bloodshed than so be it. I’ll strike my fists and strike anyone down to that mat any way that I have to. I don’t owe my allegiance to anyone, but if it’s to satisfy the hate in my heart, I’m always going to do it. Maybe the time came that he really looked closely at what I offer for almost nothing in return. Again…it makes no fucking difference to me…as long as I keep getting opponents lined up in front of me so I can fucking strike them down.
I’m no prophet by any stretch of the imagination, Stevens, but you can only fail so many times in the front of the eyes of the GOD of HOW and I foresee yours all too clearly. Maybe it’s not a factor of you failing the GOD of HOW three times, but more like you failing the GOD of HOW with a three count against yourself. You’re on very fragile ground when it comes to Lee and there’s only so much failure he can tolerate. You of all people know the word failure all too well.
Truth is, Stevens, you’re on your last leg in HOW. This new facade of yours is merely temporary and you and I both know this is your last chance to be relevant in a HOW that has already passed you by. Lee knows it, I know it and the rest of the Board knows it. You’re a fucking liability and I’m going to expose that fact in front of the entire world this weekend at Chaos. Just ask yourself for a moment, Stevens, on what you have to lose here. What is there for me to lose here? Again, nothing. But for you? It could cost the rest of your career. You’re only one Executive Decree and one decision away from Lee to put you back down into irrelevancy once again.
I would love nothing more than to prove Lee and the rest of HOW, right. I would love nothing more than to expose the supposed Demi-God of High Octane Wrestling wrong. I mean…someone has to fucking do it, right?
Either way, come time for Chaos, I will march down to that ring with the sole purpose of using my hatred and disdain against you. You and I know we’re no strangers to each other and I will come down to that ring with the sole purpose of decreeing you as a fraud and doing Lee a favor in reconsidering you as an enforcer for the Board. You may worship Lee, but you and I both know you really don’t believe in him. How could you after everything he’s done to you? Deep down you hate lee and I’m going to reach deep down and pull that hatred out of you in light of my own hatred for you and one way or another, something will get exposed.
You will deny him three times…only it will be your shoulders pinned down on that mat if I even allow to let you off the hook with a three count. Either way, I’ll just be proving another point to the GOD of HOW when I have no allegiance to anyone because who fucking needs it? I just have a way of making the revelations come to the surface…I’ll just do it with my hatred this time…
OBTAINING MORE THAN JUST A FILE
Hollywood’s personal jet finally touches down on another private air strip in Los Angeles, California. It wasn’t one that Hollywood owned. It would be too easy for the authorities to capture Hollywood and that wasn’t what he was trying to allow to happen. Most likely, the strip was owned by The Chair but Hollywood knew what was at stake here. Not much meant to Hollywood when it came to Los Angeles, but when it came to his sisters murder, that meant everything to him.
Brian Hollywood: “Alright, wait for my orders here. If I call in a hurry, we’ll need to have wheels up fast if I’m being chased by any law enforcement that may be after me.”
Hollywood’s personal pilot nods his head as Hollywood exits the jet. He knew he was outside of his element but he knew the plan for what The Chair and himself set into motion was very important and crucial of happening. The way of this mission succeeding was Hollywood’s reliability in his friend, Buck Wringley, cooperating with him.
Brian Hollywood: “God this had better work..”
Hollywood didn’t leave the private airfield that he was at. Instead, he had personally texted the coordinates to Buck Wringley himself in meeting him there. He had truly acquired a lot more traits from The Chair than he cared to admit and one of them was learning how to master the art of recluse and remote areas. Hollywood takes a deep breath as he sees a car approaching him. He could have only assumed that it was Buck. Sure enough, he recognized the car approaching as it pulls up into the airstrip and straight up next to him. A few moments pass by before the car door opens and out steps Buck Wringley, by himself, much to the relief of Hollywood as he exhales calmly.
Brian Hollywood: “For a moment there I didn’t think you’d actually go through with this and meeting up with me alone.”
Buck didn’t appear to be in a good mood as he quickly has a reply for Hollywood.
Buck Wringley: “Shut da fuck up, Bri! I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart! I’m not even doin this fer you or our friendship! Ya’ve put a big enough strain on our friendship that even I’m questioning why I’m goin this far in helping ya.”
Brian Hollywood: “Did you bring the file or not, Buck?!”
Hollywood was cold hearted in his response to Buck. He could give two less of a fuck about friendships about right now. It was all about tracking down his sister’s killer at all costs. However, there was hesitation in Buck’s actions that Hollywood found alarming. Did he walk into a trap after all?
Buck Wringley: “Bri…in my right hand is supposedly what yer seekin…however, as my conscious as a lawman…I can’t put that or my integrity at risk…even fer you. I have what ya seek…but it’s gonna cost you a lot more than ya think. I’m not the only one who wants answers and yer gonna have to give them…whether you like it or not…”
Hollywood definitely didn’t like that answer as he squints in bewilderment at Buck’s reply. Just then, as Buck looks guilty as fuck, five squad cars pull into the airstrip as they surround a surprised Hollywood. There was no getting away this time as Hollywood’s reply said it all.
Brian Hollywood: “You son of a bitch! What have you done. Fuck…”