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Well I’ll be damned… Joe Bergman did something stupid.
Honestly, I’m not surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. I guess I’ve struck a nerve with Mr. Bergman by criticizing his lovely ‘BARN’ where he ‘TRAINS’ people. Seriously, Joe? If you thought that was offensive then buckle up, bitch. I’m taking you on the ride of a lifetime.
First let’s start with the fact that Mr. Bergman tried to ‘SHAME’ me because shocker, I like to have sex with women. Wow, I should be locked up and have the key thrown away. I’m attracted to women. I’m a single man out there living his life while still dominating inside of the ring. I mean… It’s unheard of! What’s next, Joe? Onlyfans jokes? I’m sure those are retro enough for you to think they are fresh in the year 2022. Also, here’s some more free promo material for you. I had sex this past Sunday night.
I look forward to your next over the top tangent about it.
Joe also dusted off the classic ‘YOU’RE PLAYING SECOND FIDDLE TO MIKE BEST’ line. You could also go with the oddly similar, you are Diet Coke Mike Best. You are Mike Best’s puppet. You can’t accomplish anything unless you are holding Mike Best’s pocket, etc etc. Man, you guys think you’re hitting home runs with these insults but I’ve seen bunts that have had more impact. So, allow me to address the subject that everyone loves to bring to the forefront when it comes to yours truly.
I hope when my career is over I am considered Diet Coke Mike Best.
Saying I’m Diet Coke Mike Best isn’t the insult you all think it is. Every single one of you motherfuckers on the roster should be praying to be 1/4th of Mike Best. The man won 10… one zero… TEN… HOW World Championship matches. The next guy on the list isn’t even close. If I can end my career having won the HOW World Championship five times? That would make me better than 99% of people that have been in High Octane Wrestling EVER! So please, continue to pretend to insult me but really just praise me for your nonsensical bullshit. Yes, I have a big ego but I’m not stupid. I know greatness when I see it. You can keep knocking me for aligning myself with Mike Best but all of you would be sucking dick in a dark alley to be in my position. Your denial of that fact just proves your jealousy.
Then there was the TEN-X slander.
Tell me Joe, did you really expect to train people out of a modified barn and not expect people to comment on it? But your jabs? They hurt soooo bad. OMG the Head Trainer at TEN-X? How will I ever recover from this being exposed? I mean it’s not like I don’t live in Chicago, it’s not like I’m traveling all over the country working for both HOW and OCW. Why would someone who is NOT at the TEN-X building at least five days a week be the Head Trainer? See, TEN-X isn’t just open whenever someone is at home and bored. And you can stomp your feet about how ‘GREAT’ of a trainer you are regardless of its subpar conditions. But let’s compare, shall we?
Who has the barn produced?
A news lady you want to bang? Wait, not Joe Bergman? He has both his ex-wife and a news lady interested in him? Not after getting on my case of being obsessed with chasing tail. Nope, I must be dreaming. Back to the point of the matter. Your most famous trainee is Xander Azula. Read that again… Xander goddamn Azula. A man with zero HOW Championship belts to his credit. Okay, now TEN-X? Sloane Taylor trained with me and became a Champion in Pro Wrestling Valor and has another Championship opportunity coming up in another federation. Rayven Hardy is someone with a long, rich family history of success in this industry.
And lets not forget the most famous person to come out of TEN-X.
Tyler Adrian Best. You know, the current HOW ICON Champion? The man that co-won War Games in his 2nd HOW match? Does any of that ring a bell for you, Joe? Yeah, I’m sure that selective memory of yours just skipped right by that fact. Oh, and remember how you brought up me playing second fiddle to Tara? And how her run was when she held every HOW title at the time was so great? Maybe your recapping ass should go back to when I beat her for the HOW World Championship belt. Also, the person that trained her too? That would be me, you sorry piece of shit.
But please, continue to be salty that I put down your barn and MVW as a whole to my students at TEN-X.
Let’s cut the crap Joe. Clearly, you, like many others, do not like me. You love to act who I am as a person and nitpick every single thing that I do regardless if it is inside of the ring or not. So first, thank you for being such a big fan. Second, unlike you, I know exactly who I am and make no apologies for it. Confused? Let me spell it out for you. You and your self righteous bullshit? You can take a header into a fucking body of water like your name was Bobbinette Carey. You pretend to be this good person. You cosplay as a Man of the People. Good ol’ Ordinary Joe Bergman can do no wrong. Your whole fight the machine propaganda is full of more shit than STRONK’s toilet.
You’re the fakest person on the HOW roster.
You team with Clay Byrd, Steve Harrison, and Steve Solex. Do you think any of those guys are good people? Just because they aren’t in The Best Alliance anymore doesn’t make them any different than they were while they were in it. Clay Byrd has done unthinkable things to people and not given a single fuck. Remember what he did to Sutler Kael? What about Benny Newell? Steve Harrison is literally being led around by his balls by a man who stoops to levels that would put a normal person in prison for life. But I guess with Joe Bergman’s rose colored glasses throwing knees at a punching bag stuffed with a nearly dead human being in the woods is just like a picnic on a sunny day. Steve Solex was literally Lee Best’s hitman. He took Lee Best’s orders and tried to hunt down Carol fuckin’ Baskin. And he hasn’t changed one bit. He’s a mentally unstable human being that has enough guns and ammunition to storm the Capital once the voices in his head give him the order.
These are the people you align with and yet you try to pin your moral code on the rest of us?
Miss me with that cunty hypocritical horseshit. You seriously think that the three of them wouldn’t leave you for dead if they were offered money, power, a spot inside of The Board, and possibly a future Hall of Fame spot? They would in a heartbeat and trample your dead body to get to there. Speaking of Hall of Fame… where the fuck do you get off? You want to wave your Hall of Fame status at me to try and prove some kind of point? Motherfucker, show me in the Hall of Fame where the Joe Bergman statue sits. Show me one goddamn video where it says that Joe Bergman has been inducted into the HOW Hall of Fame. You can’t because one doesn’t exist. Every single REAL Hall of Famer should kick the ever loving shit out of you for pretending you’re one of us. I mean honestly Joe? Is my every word just so important to you that you feel the need to embarrassingly try to defend yourself? And don’t get me started on your two HOW World Championship reigns…
I’ll say it louder this time… ANY TOURNAMENT THAT BRIAN HOLLYWOOD ENDS UP IN THE FINALS IS A TIME PERIOD IN HOW THAT SHOULD BE ERASED FROM THE HISTORY BOOKS!
You can name all the people in said tournament all you want. Farthington, Sektor, Max Kael, Bobbinette, David Black, Darkwing, Mario, Eric Dane, and Lindsey Troy. Where are they now? You just listed off the literal revolving door users of the HOW roster. The only person you listed worth a damn was Mike Best. Also, you act like you beat each and every single one of those people on your way to becoming HOW World Champion. So again, thank you for proving my point. The only way you’ve accomplished anything in HOW is during a time period when HOW was just a shell of what it usually is. Your ‘GREAT’ World title win lasted an entire 14 days. In both of your reigns as Champion you had no successful title reigns. A big fat fucking zero. The second reign you held the title for 57 days and didn’t defend it at all until you lost to Farthington.
But Joe Bergman is soooooo great… that era of HOW was soooooo good.
You ask me what I’ve done in this era? How about making the HOTv Championship belt something of value? Making it a title with fucking prestige and not use a play thing for the undercard. How about getting inducted into the HOW Hall of Fame like you claimed you did? Maybe being Wrestler of the fucking Year in 2021 will live up to your standards Joe. Look at you, clinging onto the saddest of accomplishments and you think you and Harrison would best represent HOW as the HOTv Champions? Oh and the whole hating the freebird rule thing? Save your revisionist history for someone gullible enough to believe it. When you were ‘FORCED’ to team with Zion you literally said you were already a current HOW Tag Team Champion. You’ve been in this position multiple times now and yet you want to say Joe Bergman doesn’t book the matches?
Joe Bergman also made the decision to show up for those matches.
Joe Bergman made the decision to wrestle in those matches instead of refusing. That’s because Joe Bergman is a greedy little bitch that will take any scrap of an accomplishment that he can get. You tried your best with Zion because Lord knows you would have loved to have beaten Solex or Clay to have an untainted reign as HOW World Tag Team Champions. You don’t have what it takes to be HOTv World Tag Team Champions. You went all the way over to OCW, helped an assault on Bob Grenier and no one cared. Literally no one on the OCW roster knew who the fuck Joe Bergman was. Five minutes after the commercial break the people in the crowd couldn’t even remember your name. My name is well known, when I showed up at Big Game Hunting people knew who the fuck I was.
I am fit to be one of the first ever HOTv Champions because I’ve been out there doing GOD’s work in other federations. You’ve been farming dirt and hanging around the MVW water cooler trying to cling to some semblance of success.
I don’t care about the fact that you don’t like me Joe. It’s typical for you and all of your MVW friends to dislike Jace Parker Davidson. That’s because none of you can hold a candle to me. It’s because I say the things that I do then I back them up. And it eats every single one of you alive. Call me a manwhore but yet all MVW really is, is a Circus tent that houses an orgy party. How many women do you have circling you Joe? Sunny, Laura, Barbie Q, and Elizabeth. Adam Ellis has been with both Dawn’s daughter and now this Lan Whatshername. Speaking of Dawn we won’t even begin to get into how many times she’s been passed around. You’re not training wrestlers Joe, you’re cosplaying as Jeffrey Epstein in the middle of Ass Fuck, Missouri.
It’s fitting you chose a parody Joe, because that is exactly what you are.
You’re a guy that ran around in a fucking mask and used bad breath as a move. This isn’t 19 fucking 70 Joe, get with the fucking times. What is the next gimmick that’s going to come out of MVW, a wrestling garbage man? Clown shoes ass son of a bitch. You can take your two #97red title reigns, your fake Hall of Fame ring, and your moral compass and shove them up your fucking ass with all the other cartoon characters on the MVW roster. You think you’re special because you have a section of fans that cheer you.
A fucking section.
I have entire arenas full of people paying good money to see me all over the world whether they cheer or boo me. You and every other MVW talent can detach yourself from my coat tails and stop trying to ride the Jace Parker Davidson rocket to relevance.
Say the name Jace Parker Davidson and people line up for miles to step into the ring with me.
Say the name Joe Bergman?
And all you’ll hear is crickets.
—–
I had made it to Arizona and the first thing that I did was text Shelley Greene and find out just where the fuck he was at currently. Once I got a response I made a beeline to his location. The same no named town in Arizona that was oddly familiar to Tombstone. Fuck, everything out here in this God forsaken state looks exactly alike. I made my way into the same cheap ass Saloon that both STRONK and Shelley had visited when they had arrived earlier.
I made my way over to the bar and took a seat. The Bartender came over to greet me and I ordered a shot glass and the biggest bottle of Vodka that he had. The Bartender brought over a clean shot glass but tried to pour me a shot of the Vodka. With a glare and a stern warning I made it clear that he was to leave the entire bottle and walk the fuck away. I didn’t pay any attention to the sad sacks that littered this Saloon or this town. I grabbed the bottle of Vodka and poured my first shot as I pulled my phone from my pocket. I placed it down onto the bar and used my finger to scroll through it as I downed the first shot.
The flight from New York to Arizona was boring with all the layovers and time in the air. I kept myself entertained by stirring up trouble on Twitter. I opened the app and saw someone making threatening comments about ripping my tongue out, cooking it, then feeding it to me. I laughed so hard I nearly snorted as I poured shot number two. Another day, another random wrestler wanting a taste of greatness at my expense. I decided to entertain the man’s nonsense while I waited for Shelley to arrive. It wasn’t too much longer until Shelley came stumbling into the Saloon while wiping the sweat from his forehead. He was holding a folder full of paper as he made his way to the bar and took the seat beside me.
“Why did you want to meet me here of all places? I’ve been here and this place is terrible.”
Shelley complained while still breathing heavily from the heat.
“I’ve had a bad last few days and I needed a drink. Figured it was a good idea to stay out of Tombstone for now. Want to get my head right before I step foot into the warzone that this event is going to turn into.”
I said as I raised my hand and signaled for the Bartender.
The man reluctantly approached again as I asked for another shot glass. After a moment he returned and placed a 2nd clean shot glass down on the bar while giving Shelley the evil eye. Clearly, he hasn’t forgotten when he and STRONK had visited the first time. I grabbed the Vodka bottle and poured Shelley a shot which he gladly accepted. He grabbed the shot glass and downed the liquid inside in a needy manner treating the liqueur like water that would save him from a heat stroke.
“The sooner we can win those HOTv Tag Team belts and get the hell out of Arizona the better.”
Shelley sputtered while coughing while I poured him a second shot.
“Trust me, I’m not feeling this whole Western theme either. But it’s tolerable if it means walking away the first ever HOTv World Tag Team Champions. I have big plans that require those belts and STRONK Daddy without a Championship just doesn’t look or feel right.”
I took my second shot and began to pour a third.
“100% agree with you there. Papa Best has gifted us with a golden opportunity and being the genius that I am, I’m going to make sure we don’t squander it.” Shelley opened the folder and smiled a crooked smile at me. “I have details here of everyone else in the match just like I did for your match with Jatt. Only better this time. I feel like we should start with Brian Hollywood.”
Shelley pulls out a sheet of paper with a diagram and details about Hollywood.
“The man talks out of his ass. He bitches about tag team matches and says he can’t trust anyone but then turns around and says that he and Xander are going to pull off the upset and become the first ever HOTv World Tag Team Champions. I called it that they both would be delusional and act like they stood an actual chance at winning this match. They keep thumping the fact that they beat STRONK and Christopher America. No, bitch, you beat STRONK in a two on one situation and it wasn’t even by an impressive display. It took four different finishing moves and both of them to cover him at the same time to keep him down for three seconds.”
Shelley downed his second shot of Vodka then slammed the glass down onto the bar before adding in his two cents.
“They neglect the fact that STRONK Daddy kicked out a mere split second after the three and they seem to have forgotten that right after that happened STRONK literally destroyed them single handedly.”
I nod my head in agreement with Shelley’s statement before knocking back my third shot.
“The man goes on to state that he is fueled by hatred but then tells STRONK that anger is his ultimate enemy. Motherfucker, what?! Isn’t hatred and anger like just about the same fucking thing? STRONK’s anger didn’t seem to be an issue when he choked his ass out and put him to sleep like it was past his bedtime and he had school in the morning. He says that he’s been undefeated since his return… When did the son of a bitch ever leave? Just because you half ass your effort for an extended period of time then decide to actually try isn’t a return, nimrod. I’m convinced that Hollywood is a drug addict. That is the reasonable explanation for the things he says and the fact that he’s been chased. That piece of shit won’t ever outrun his own shadow. And whoever might be chasing him must be a mental midget. Just show up to an HOW event where he is scheduled to have a match. Fucking simple.”
I shoved the paper with Hollywood on it back to Shelley. He nods his head undeterred and pulls out another sheet and places it on the bar.
“Hollywood wasn’t a real strategy, now Xander Azula is a man that you and STRONK need to neutralize.”
I looked down at the paper and felt tempted to slap Shelley across the face.
“Xander Azula? Are you serious? Xander is an oversized toddler trying to live in a real man’s world. The guy literally went back to Bergman’s barn to be trained by Slut McGill for this match on Sunday night. Though she didn’t do any training, she just sort of stood there in an outfit and watched as a couple of morons did moron things. I guess that is the FANTASTIC training you can get down in the Bergman barn. When is Xander going to do anything on his own? When is the man going to stand on his own two feet? I’m supposed to respect and/or fear a man who needs help from one of his opponents to learn how to kick someone’s ass? I don’t think so. Delusional Xander also thinks that he and Hollywood are going to do the impossible but isn’t smart enough to realize his own partner secretly hates him. But I guess for once his Eternal Boredom Circle members might prove useful. He’ll need all the help he can get.”
Shelley reaches down and points at the diagram of Xander on the paper.
“We have to be prepared for his HOFC fightin–”
I swatted Shelley’s hand away and interrupted him.
“I don’t even want to hear about Xander’s HOFC quest. Who has he beaten, honestly? Hollywood, Stevens, and a man that was fit to be in High Octane Wrestling. That is the who’s who of the HOW roster, sureeeeeeee. I know Xander probably had his first real orgasm in his own pants over the tweet Lee Best made about the possibility of the HOFC Championship coming back. It’s almost sad that Xander thinks he’s a good shit talker. Anyone with actual talent would destroy him inside of that cage. You really think that Mike Best would sit back and watch the HOFC Championship belt be desecrated by the likes of Xander Azula? If Xander is itching to have a knee driven through his skull that badly then maybe go and run head first into a brick wall repeatedly and spare us the boredom of constant Xander Azula HOFC matches. The boy says he owes me a fireball. Again, motherfucker, what?! That isn’t even your thing, it’s not even your revenge. That’s just some misappropriated MVW hatred. Man doesn’t even drink and he talks about playing with fire when it comes to me? Bitch, I will burn the guyliner off of your face. If you’re smart you’ll stay your ass in Vegas and hope they are in need of a resident jobber.”
I push the Xander sheet back towards Shelley who bites his lip but remains confident. He shuffles through the papers and then pulls out a sheet that has Steve Harrison on it. He places it down on the bar and has a smirk on his face.
“The other two are small potatoes in the grand scheme of things but this man? He’s a threat and he’s one half the current Tag Team Champions.”
I glanced down at the paper and even as a drawn diagram the light shines off of Harrison’s bald head. I grab the bottle of Vodka and begin to pour more shots.
“Who lied to you and told you that Steve Harrison was a threat? Just because he’s been associated with people that do bad things doesn’t make Steve Harrison a threat in any way, shape, or form. The safe money bet is that Steve Harrison is a threat going to dish out some awkward trash talk and pretend that it lands. Oh no, Steve Harrison brought up the fact that I’m a pervert and I had no friends in The Best Alliance yet again. Since when did getting pussy turn into something people used to insult someone with? It’s like ooh that guy? He won the Mega Millions lottery, he’s such a loser! Makes zero fucking sense. It’s funny how Harrison, Solex, and Clay act superior to everyone else yet they were in The Best Alliance just like me. The only difference is that once The Best Alliance was done they all fell into obscurity while I rose to the top of the company.”
I placed the bottle down once both shot glasses were full but Shelley was more focused on my dismissal of his hard work.
“He’s a former HOW LSD Champion and one half of the current HOW Tag Team Champions!”
Shelley pounds his fist down onto the bar to try and emphasize his point.
“Is he really, though? Those belts are hand me downs from Clay Byrd and Solex. Harrison is out in the middle of nowhere working on his knees so that he can try and steal some glory off of the fact he successfully defended a title that isn’t his. All that hard training but man got winded after like ten knee strikes. Which is why my knee strikes will always be better than Harrisons. Steve seems to think that I shouldn’t be trusted because OMG it’s Jace. Tell me, which member of The Best Alliance did I turn on? Especially compared to the amount of people Harrison, Clay, and Solex turned on and kicked out of The Best Alliance for subpar performances. Harrison thinks he can see into the future and believes he has ESP but the man confused that with ESPN. But it seems clear to him that I will turn on STRONK. That would be a good guess but then why would I start a business with STRONK and you? Would be kind of awkward to turn on a man I’ve gone into business with but Harrison lost brain cells along with his hair. I wonder how Bergman feels about walking into this match with a raging alcoholic? The man will be more focused on drinking than he is actually winning.”
Shelley raises his hand up to his mouth and lets out a fake cough.
“Need I remind you that you’re sitting here and disregarding my fine research material just to drink Vodka?”
I chuckled a bit. Shelley is lucky I actually like him or else I would have hit him so hard that his blood type would have changed.
“I drink but I’m not an alcoholic. The term is called getting Harrison’d not getting Davidson’d. Man wouldn’t dare to use a bottle of alcohol as a weapon without draining it down his gullet first. At least he won’t have to go far to drink away his sorrow when STRONK and I become the first ever HOTv World Tag Team Champions. Wait, he’s already doing that! Match hasn’t even happened yet and Harrison and Harrison’d and guess what? He had SEX TOO! OMG not after trying to mock me for it. Calling me a pervert. Motherfucker, turns right around and has a one night stand with a woman who he can’t even remember the name of. Do these people put ANY thought at all into their words and actions? I don’t need to hear anything insulting from a man that says one thing then turns around and does the exact same thing that he just finished bitching about.”
I crumple up the sheet with Harrison on it then I throw it against Shelley’s forehead. The paper ball bounces off his skull and falls lifelessly onto the bar. Shelley lets out an audible grunt of frustration as he digs back into the folder. I knock back another shot as Shelley produces a sheet with Joe Bergman on it.
“Now, I know you’re going to take your favorite person seriously. The real threat of The Highwaymen.”
I let out an inaudible laugh that caused my shoulders to move up then down slightly.
“The man that is my biggest fan, you mean? Well, Joe seems to follow everything I do or say but he’s going to have to babysit Harrison during this match. He’ll be getting his ass kicked looking for help and Harrison would be ordering his sixth glass of MIDORI. I mentioned earlier that I had sex on Sunday, so you know he’s going to dig through the entire internet and try to find footage of it and break down the film like he was John Madden during a Sunday Night Football game. ‘Tonight, we bring you Jace Parker Davidson’s sexual exploits from the point of view of this woman’s vagina.’ Trademark that shit before he makes that the title of his next promo. Joe gets so burnt up when it comes to me because he has to give every ounce of himself on a daily basis just to be mediocre. He looks at me and sees me roll out of bed at the crack of noon and just fall into a five star classic as easily as that first sip of coffee in the morning. He searches 24/7 for material and I’m getting chased by pussy so much it’s got me feeling like a mouse.”
Shelley smiled and raised his hand to high five me. I obliged with the high five, didn’t want to him looking like an idiot in front of… well, actually I forgot that I don’t give a fuck about these people.
“Next!”
I shouted as Shelley quickled downed his shot and put the sheet back into the folder. He reaches in for one of the two remaining sheets and pulls out one with Bobbinette Carey on it. A lot of surface area is used on this paper to display Carey in all her glory.
“Public enemy #1 Robernette Carey. We can’t allow her to get the big man a little tipsy and then whisper sweet nothings into his ear.”
I shook my head while refilling the shot glasses.
“STRONK is not a drinker which is a good thing because I wouldn’t put it past Carey to try and slip something into his glass. Old Bill Carey is desperate to try and get STRONK Daddy to sample her Jell-O puddin’ but that ain’t happening. She has the audacity to call us manipulators when she’s the biggest manipulator and self-important bitch in the business. She literally took her friendship and turned Scottywood from the Hardcore Artist into a bitch on a leash. She cost the man what would have been his only REAL reign with the HOW World Championship belt and somehow turned that into being there for him. She likes to call it Bob logic but all it happens to be is a way for her to say and do shitty things while trying to play innocent. She loves to point out all these things about me as far as being a misogynist and blah, blah, blah. Yet, when she thought she was going to get to Captain a War Games team she was blowing up my phone like a horny guy at 2am trying to see if I’m still up. Carey is mad that I’m a womanizer, she’s mad
I’m not trying to clap those cheeks.”
Shelley’s face twists into disgust at my comment but I can tell from the gleam in his eyes that he wouldn’t pass up to clap Carey’s cheeks. I’m pretty sure he’d use her oversized granny panties as a parachute to jump from the top of that Saloon with the tag titles in his hands. And yes, that’s a fat joke Carey.
“She’s soooo pissed off that I made light of the struggle that women go through. We don’t have control of our bodies. Bitch, learn how to swallow, problem solved. But yet she wants to talk about how everyone is soft and weak nowadays? Carey, you are the fucking definition of a snowflake. Any small issue you can dig up you will harp on repeatedly to the point everyone dreads even seeing you show up. You can call me what you want Carey, hell everyone else does but here’s the difference Bob. I am self-aware of who I am. I don’t make apologies because someone got caught up in their feels over fucking words. You on the other hand are the first to point out someone’s flaws but yet ignore the thousands that you have every single day. But please, talk about your period even more. Yes, we truly want to hear about what kind of heavy flow day you’re having while we’re trying to enjoy a meal. Fucking dumpster fire. You want to paint me as cringe? That’s funny, in OCW they had a thing called EPIC SUMMER and I once had a conversation with Marcus Welsh asking if it was you. He wouldn’t confirm or deny but eventually he admitted the fact that you were SO goddamn annoying that he wouldn’t dare even try to convince you to rejoin OCW. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda, I’m black and I have a vagina. Treat me special! Fuck off, you’re not the first to do anything. You’re an affirmative action Hall of Famer. You’ve accomplished nothing great, any title you’ve held you’ve immediately dropped harder than Scottywood’s mother dropped him on his head.”
Shelley’s eyes widen a bit in shock but he keeps his mouth shut by grabbing his shot glass and taking in even more Vodka.
“And speaking of your precious Scooter. We totally enjoy the passive aggressive bullshit with you two on a weekly basis. Oh I have a better partner, I have a dependable partner, yak, yak, yak. For fucks sake just say his goddamn name and tell him he fucking sucks. We all know it, it’s not a fucking secret. But that’s classic, Carey isn’t it. Reality doesn’t exist in the World of Epicness. The sky is cotton candy and nothing is ever her fault. I lost a match? Well, I didn’t care. Ohhhh someone tried to kill me! Pity me! Bitch, I literally tossed you off of a ship and tried to watch you drown. No need to keep looking over your shoulder, I’m right fucking here. You act like you have what it takes to be HOTv World Tag Team Champions but Carey you’re an HOW only person. You’re loyal for HOW even though you hate Lee Best and The Board like the fucking hypocrite that you are. You don’t want to travel to different federations and compete against brand new talent. That would be too much effort for you and you would miss your mom friends way too much. But I guess you could pass the time by getting under the skirt of every single female from another company.”
Shelley raised his eyebrow slightly because of course the words getting up under a female’s skirt was like music to his ears.
“Did Mario fuck you up so much that he turned you to the other team? Would explain why you tolerated a bleeding vagina like Scottywood for so long. PWA becomes official and you hunt down Lexi Gold like a fucking blood hound for pussy. Minority? Check, Feminist? Check. Built and look a fucking man? Check. Go ahead and come out of that closet Carey like your name just got called for the Price is Right. Motherfucking butch Lesbian for High Octane Wrestling. I swear if you didn’t weigh almost as much as I did, you’d be on Twitter right now posting thot pics and crying for likes. You don’t want respect, you don’t want to be credited for hard work, and this isn’t about being a proud, black female. It’s all a cry for fucking attention. You’re not an onion, Carey. There aren’t many layers. You have no depth. Conor might be able to carry his fair share burt he sure as fuck can’t carry your dead weight ass to a goddamn win.”
I grabbed my glass and took another drink but this time Shelley grabbed the bottle and began to try and refill the glasses. However, it was clear that Shelley was pretty intoxicated and fumbled with the bottle. I took the bottle from him as he patted me on the back before reaching in for the final sheet. He places it down as I look at the diagram of Conor Fuse.
“Hey, aren’t you and him like former buddies or something?”
Shelley inquired while his words came out a jumbled mess.
“It’s funny how Conor can’t remember things the way they really happened. Here is a guy that got humbled because he once again came up short at War Games. Always the bridesmaid by never the bride huh Conor? I told you, I tried to fucking warn you but you wouldn’t listen. I know from fucking experience that its like to fall off the top of that mountain. Sure, you had that first title reign but that was just a taste. You were new to the entire 97red experience and when Mike Best beat you, you just chalked it up to not having enough XP or whatever goofy video game term you want to use. But the second time? Ohhhh you had it all under control. You got you had it all figured out but the reality was that you were just flying by the seat of your pants and running around like Super Mario after he captures one of those invincibility stars. You should know better, Conor. That power doesn’t last forever. You needed help from me and the rest of the AoA to even win that second HOW World Championship belt. You needed The Board to help you successfully retain that HOW World Championship belt against Clay Byrd. But in your child-like mind it was all you. You beat Clay Byrd all by yourself and decided to rub it in his face. And yet you wonder why he wouldn’t give you the time of day at War Games.”
Shelley downs his shot then grabs the bottle again. He starts to pour another while using his free hand to point out some details about Fuse on the paper. In reality all he was doing was spilling Vodka all over the bar in the process.
“But you know what? You’re right, Conor. At least about some of what happened. I did come to you and Jatt Starr about the offer I received to join The Board. I gave you both that respect inside of just stabbing you in the fucking backs. Of course, you would exaggerate on what was said because hey, it helps your narrative. The funny thing about it is, this whole hatred you have for me? It’s because I didn’t give you the proper respect for avenging me against Scott Stevens. All you wrote me a letter. You beat up someone that I’ve beaten so many times I’ve lost count. Avenged me, Conor? If that was the case Stevens would be dead. If that was true he’d be buried six feet under in that toxic wasteland known as Texas. But you didn’t avenge me, you just beat Scott Stevens just like everyone that has ever been on the HOW roster has done. So, pardon me if I didn’t feel like you were worthy of a goddamn parade for the fact you pinned Scott Stevens. But you’ve focused on me, you’ve obsessed about me. I’m living rent free in your head, Conor.”
I paused for a moment as I thought about the big picture.
“Actually, I live rent free in all of your heads. Just look around. Bergman, Harrison, Carey, and now you, Conor. All of you spent time talking about me more than anyone else in this match. You all will say something stupid like, it’s because you’re such an asshole! Shut the fuck up, this is HOW, we’re all goddamn assholes. No, you all focus so much attention on me because you know I’m the REAL threat here. This is what it’s like to be truly Elite, Conor. Anytime I’m booked into a match, anytime my name is on the marquee. Everyone focuses on me, everyone throws their best material at me. Night in, and night out I get everyone’s A+ game. Every match I wrestle is a game seven in a finals showdown. You think you’ve beat the game because you’ve had two reigns with 97red? Brian Hollywood has two reigns with 97red, you ain’t special, bitch. No, if you want to truly be great? You want to truly beat the game? You get to my level, your name invokes such fear and malice in people that wrestling matches turn into personal grudges with people you haven’t even met before. No one wrestles me anymore, every time I step into a match whether it be inside of a ring or elsewhere. People are trying to end me. They are trying to snuff out any signs of life I have left. Everyone looks at me as the level 8-4 as you put it. Everyone is climbing all over each other to be the one to claim that they put down JPD. They alone are the one to kill the man, the myth, and the legend that is Jace Parker Davidson. But it hasn’t happened yet, and I’m willing to bet it never will. Come take your shot, kid. I’m not a hard man to find.”
I sighed in a satisfied manner as Shelley shoved the sheet onto the floor of the Saloon.
“Great, all the work. All my plans and you don’t even want to consider going over them. Who cares, right? Fuck me, it’s only the HOTv World Tag Team Championship belts. No big deal.”
Shelley waves his arms around clearly upset.
“You’re missing the point here. This isn’t a wrestling match. There aren’t going to be many moves or some technical mat wrestling. This is a fight, a fight that involves alcohol, yours truly, and STRONK. Who better would you bet your money on in a knock down drag out fight than the two of us? Chaos and beating up a massive amount of people at once are what STRONK and I are masters of doing.”
Shelley calms down for a moment.
“So, then what? We just wing it?”
I placed my hand on Shelley’s shoulder with a smile.
“No, I have a plan. It’s a good plan too. We just need a secret weapon.”
Shelley perked up at the comment.
“What kind of weapon?”
I gripped Shelley’s shoulder hard.
“You.”
“Me?”
The confusion is obvious.
“Like I said, this isn’t a wrestling match. And if Xander can use his group of guys. And The Highwaymen can play the numbers game then so can we. You’re just not going to stand there and watch the fight as it happens. You’re going to be in it.”
Shelley became terrified instantly.
“I don’t do the whole drunken fighting thing.”
I laughed to myself.
“No time like the present.”
I got to my feet and pulled Shelley up. I looked around the Saloon and found a woman who had the biggest breasts in the room. I shoved Shelley forward and in his drunk state he tripped and fell face first right into that woman’s cleavage.
“So soft…”
Shelley grinned as he sunk his head deeper into the woman’s chest. She screamed bloody murder as her boyfriend got to his feet and yanked Shelley away. The boyfriend reared back to punch Shelley in the face which caused STRONK’s roommate to tremble with fear. But before the punch could land I rushed forward and hit the boyfriend with a spear. Our bodies went flying into a nearby table where two men were enjoying their drinks. That table was flipped completely over and their drinks fell to the floor. And just like that the entire Saloon fell into chaos as everyone started fighting.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Shelley muttered to himself as he got down on all fours and crawled around the floor of the Saloon to avoid any type of fight or collateral damage. Shelley crawled his way over towards another woman who had on a short leather skirt. Shelley being the man that he is, pulled out his phone and pointed the camera straight up in between the woman’s legs. I got up and brushed myself off before the Bartender began yelling at me.
“What have you done to my Saloon? First that big fella comes in here and craves up my bar and now this?”
I looked down at the bar where STRONK had stabbed into it with a knife.
“Carved up? No, this is an autograph.”
“Autograph? It’s fucking scribbles from a toddler!”
The Bartender was angry and rightfully so.
“No, it’s an autograph from one of the greatest professional wrestlers that’s ever lived. The man is wrestling this Sunday and not only will he become one of the last ever HOW World Tag Team Champions but he will also become one of the first ever HOTv World Tag Team Champions. This here is going to be worth a lot of money one day, I wouldn’t complain if I were you.”
The Bartender looks down at the damaged bar and just shrugs as I turn to look over at Shelley.
“Get up on your feet and fight! Don’t just take upskirt pictures of the chick in the tight leather skirt, asshole!”
My yelling alerted the woman in question of what was going on. She turned around and was ready to beat Shelley into a bloody pulp. Panicked, Shelley got to his feet and did the only thing that his drunken mind could think of at the moment. He leaned back and punched the woman in the face as hard as he possibly could. The woman hit the ground like a ton of bricks and was out cold. Even I was surprised and impressed that Shelley was capable of that.
“That’s right, bitch!”
Shelley celebrated for a moment but everyone stopped fighting and turned their attention to the two of us. Without a word both Shelley and I ran out of that Saloon as fast as our legs could take us. The people from the Saloon chased after us as Shelley turned to look at me.
“Did you see that? I totally kicked everyone’s ass in that Saloon. They won’t soon forget the name Shelley Greene. I am fucking ready for Dead or Alive!”
I laughed as we kept running until we made it to my rental car. We both hopped in as quickly as possible before I started the engine. Shelley didn’t even get the door closed on his side as I pulled off and the scene faded.