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“I remain, still the same, (Why Tu?) cause it’s the same song.”
- Same Song, Digital Underground featuring Tupac
Christopher America’s home hadn’t felt the same for the last few weeks. The nightmare that he had been having seemed to affect his mood more so than usual. William Right of Right’s Talent Agency, a brainy, scrawny man was beginning to question whether taking on Christopher America as a client had been worth it. The job paid well but the psychological stress that America had been under since returning to HOW made Bill question his dedication to the job. Perhaps, naively, Bill thought that this would be a cakewalk. America, as a professional wrestler, had all the natural charisma you could want. His talent was certainly exceptional as well as he was a three-time World Champion. In Bill’s heart, he hoped that soon, he would be able to parlay America’s talents in the squared circle to a couple of movie deals in Hollywood. The recent success of other professional wrestlers on both the small and large screen helped Hollywood shake the fears they once had in the 1980s. And for Bill, even a few movie deals would earn him a substantial bump in pay.
But that didn’t seem to be in the cards now.
Something was wrong with his client and he knew it.
Christopher America was a cocky, loud, in your face man who loved America. He lived it. He breathed it. And nothing could persuade him off of it. The last time that Bill saw his client was a few weeks before the start of October. His client had made the challenge to Steve Harrison and he even managed to get the upper hand a couple of times, but then things changed. The America that Bill had gotten to know was reverting to something he didn’t like. Something that America wouldn’t like either. Something he had to be protected against.
Otherwise, history was going to repeat itself.
And so, as Christopher America entered his house, he walked over to the map of the United States and hung his keys on the California hook. He tossed his gym bag down. He was still sweating from the endurance and cardio training he recently completed at TEN-X in preparation for his match at Alcatraz against Steve Harrison. Most of his body felt like it was on fire because it had to be. To push through current pain thresholds. It wasn’t enough to dig down deeper than Harrison was willing to go. He had to make that commonplace, so that when he dug down deeper still, that would be what separated him from his opponent. THAT… would ensure victory. THAT… would make him STILL HOW World Champion.
As America looked up, he noticed his Bill was seated on a chair in the hallway. Despite the noise America made, he didn’t look up.
Christopher America: There you are.
Bill: Here I am.
Bill’s words were cold, with a touch of acid.
Christopher America: What’s that supposed to mean?
Bill got up and left the hallway. America stood there confused, brow furrowed, and mouth open as he watched Bill walk away from him. America closed his mouth and pursued. As he followed into the living room, he found Bill setting himself up in a chair in the corner.
Bill: There you are.
Bill’s words were just as cold, as if mocking America.
Christopher America: Have I done something to piss you off?
Bill: Piss me off. Piss Dr. Wakjaub off. And whether you know it or not, piss yourself off.
Reflexively, America let out a laugh that did more to add tension then release it.
Christopher America: Piss myself off how?
It was now Bill’s turn to laugh.
Bill: You really don’t see it, do you? You’re so blind and you’re going to hate yourself come November that you didn’t see it sooner.
America was fully annoyed now.
Christopher America: Can you cut the cryptic bullshit and just tell me what the fuck I did?!?!
For the first time, Bill looked up at America who stood there, arms outstretched as if begging for a clue. Bill stared at him and America could almost see the gears turning in his head.
Bill: How long has it been? How long has it been since Alcatraz?
America’s face, once a look of confusion, was now scowling.
Bill: Glad to see I hit a nerve.
Bill was now scowling too and staring harder than America was staring at him. This was going to be a war of words that America had coming for a longtime.
Bill: When you hired me, you talked about your goals for returning to HOW. And the one thing, THE ONE THING, you didn’t want was to return to the Christopher America of old. The Hall of Famer who coasted. The sad, poor me Christopher America who wallowed in his own pity and wanted everyone to feel sorry for him without doing a GOD damned thing about it. And you’ve done NOTHING but that since October came around. The closer and closer this month came the farther and farther you sank into your pity hole.
And I’m SICK of it.
I’d like… I’d like to go through a… a… a WEEK where you’re not moping around!
You spent two separate weeks railing about how Bobbinette Carey positions herself as a martyr and you do the exact same thing. I’m shocked that she didn’t call you out on that. And that ‘poor me’ attitude almost cost you the HOW World Championship against Jatt Starr.
YOU…
Bill took a deep breath and somehow managed to glare harder.
Bill: You’ve been in brutal matches before. You’ve had a God damn lion try to claw through your shoulder. A harpoon was wedged in the other shoulder during one of your War Games outings. You’ve been hit with chairs, tables, ladders, cinder blocks, and witnessed everything from crucifixions to someone having their face blown off with a shotgun. You watched at Dead or Alive as Lee Best decapitated Chris Kostoff and the thing that plunges YOU into a dark place is remembering your loss to Mike Best from a few years ago?
Go fuck yourself!
And then wake the fuck up.
When the real Chris America wants to show his face again, let me know. Because THAT’S my client. Not you. Not the person standing before me.
The words hung in the air for but a moment. America raged inside. Bill chose now. Bill chose this moment. And Bill was going to understand. America was going to make him.
Christopher America: You finished? Got it all out of your system? Great.
Let me tell you why this month pisses me off so much. Let me tell you why this month affects me more than any other.
This month holds a lot of bad memories for me. A few years ago, I returned to HOW and was part of Ground Zero. The plan was simple. Attack Mike and then fight him at Rumble at the Rock. Instead, I get MY ASS hauled away to Solitary Confinement. I have no fucking idea where my crew is. The same crew that stood side by side with me during my attack with Mike was suddenly nowhere to be found.
EPU agents guarded me day and night. Shit food. Shit room. And the light was always on making it hard to sleep or to even know what day it was. My attempts to escape failed. There were too many EPU agents. And naively, STUPIDLY, I thought Mike would also be in solitary confinement, but he wasn’t. Mike was eating, drinking, sleeping, bathing, and training in the best facilities his money could buy and I had NOTHING!
They forced me to cut promos so that they could hype up the match. Nevermind how gaunt my appearance looked or how abysmal my conditions were, just cut the fucking promo so that Mike could laugh about it from the comfort of his own home.
And you know what that meant?
Because I was cutting promos, it meant that Ground Zero knew where I was. THEY FUCKING KNEW! And not a single one of them attempted to get me out. Not a single one of them came to help me! They left me there to rot!
And then people wonder why I have a difficult time trusting the Board or any other group that HOW has running around right now. In the back of my mind, I’m left wondering if today is the day. Is today the day that the Highwaymen get me? Before Dead or Alive, I had flashbacks to solitary confinement when Solex kidnapped me. Would the Board come and rescue me? Would the Board save me if that ever happened? Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Because the EPU WAS dispatched to come and collect me. The same fucking group that imprisoned me were now my saviors.
America’s voice broke slightly.
Christopher America: What do you think that does to a person?
Bill goes to speak but America was on too much of a roll.
Christopher America: No, no, no, no, no, no, no! You had your turn. It’s mine now. I’ll tell you what it does. It fucks you up. It messes with your head! And so, when I lost to Mike, was it really a surprise? It shouldn’t have been! And part of that’s my fault. Part of that is because rather than train with the meager accommodations I had and eat their shitty food, I was looking for ways to get out of there. And by the time Rumble at the Rock came around, I wasted so much time THINKING about revenge rather than EXTRACTING revenge. That match was one of the absolute worst of my career and so I left HOW in DISGRACE! That… THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY LAST MATCH!
EVER!
I WAS SUPPOSED TO BEAT MIKE AND RETIRE!
And instead, I got what we all got: a drizzling shit of a match. One of my worst outings ever.
What a fucking legacy for me!
You know my move? For America? The For America 2.0 was reserved for Mike. I crafted a completely brand new, more dangerous, more impactful version of MY move for him. And I couldn’t even lock it in. What a waste!
And then… then to top it all off? I want you to take a guess how many times I’ve competed at ICONIC.
Go on.
America spoke with an animalistic growl.
Christopher America: GUESS!
Bill refused to play and crossed his arms. He leaned back and continued to scowl.
Christopher America: BARELY AT ALL! I’ve been in HOW for YEEEEEEARS! YEARS! And I’ve barely wrestled at ICONIC. That’s our big show and I’ve barely been on it because of what Rumble at the Rock does to me. I’ve had a goal in my mind since returning and that is to be the HOW World Champion walking into ICONIC.
Because I knew…
I knew that if I did that, it meant that I made it through Rumble at the Rock. That I somehow washed away the stain of that loss to Mike. Oh sure, the record books would still read it was a loss, but in here…
America began tapping at his temple hard.
Christopher America: …in my mind… it was gone.
I AM SICK OF BEING HAUNTED BY THESE FUCKING INFERIOR VERSIONS OF CHRISTOPHER AMERICA! This whole run is about undoing the mistakes of the past and re-writing my legacy. HER LEGACY!
It was Bill’s turn to laugh and he let out a chortle that just seemed to further piss America off.
Bill: SICK?!?! You’re not sick of it. It’s a comfort blanket for you! You snuggle up with it every October because it’s comfortable. It’s soothing to you. It’s another excuse built in for you for when you lose.
Christopher America: Fuck you!
Bill: Then explain to me what happened with Jatt? Or why you ran away from your tag team match with Sektor. Or why YOU didn’t get the pinfall over Harrison?
America stood there with no response. His mind raced to come up with something but he knew there was nothing there.
Bill: Let me tell you what I saw. You should’ve competed with Sektor. You should’ve stayed in that ring and regardless of whether you felt Sektor was good enough to compete or not, you should have taken over. You should’ve obliterated Carey and Jatt and shown no mercy. Then, you should’ve asked for an American flag and planted it over both of their bodies. When it came time to face Jatt, you should’ve gloated and ran circles around him. You should’ve mocked him at every chance you got, but instead he did that to you and you barely escaped with the World title. And when it came to the tag match, you should’ve demoralized Harrison by pinning him in the center of the ring. But instead, Jace got to do that for Carey. And now Carey will have to overcome that mentally, while Harrison will feel just as confident as he ever was. He’s just as healthy too because you and Jace didn’t do what you should’ve done. And the reason for that is because you aren’t right “up here.”
Bill’s voice mocked America’s as he pointed to his temple.
Bill: You’re rattled, Chris. I can see it in your eyes. You have bags around them. You’ve told me you haven’t been able to sleep well. You want to complete the defeat of the Highwaymen? You want to main event ICONIC as HOW World Champion… not to chase it… but to be the actual World Champion walking in, then you have to fucking let go of the past.
Who cares anymore that Hall of Famers coast?
You’re not them.
Who cares that Mike beat you a few years ago?
You guys patched things up.
You know what the worst thing about you is? The thing you should be worried about?
The worst thing about you is being the second best wrestling mind in HOW.
When you’re on, you have an amazing way of looking at things, of seeing opportunities, or predicting things that are about to happen. But when you’re off, you’re waaay off. Your mind gets in the way of things it shouldn’t. You fall down rabbit holes and don’t stop. You spiral into endless oblivions that require you to step away from wrestling altogether.
You used to tell Solex and Bergman that the worst thing that they could have was your undivided attention but as October drew near, your attention fractured. It split into different directions and you haven’t devoted your mind SOLELY to Steve Harrison. We are TWO WEEKS from Rumble at the Rock and you’re lost in 2018 or whatever year it was.
Worried about Mike.
Worried about a match YOU AREN’T WRESTLING FOR.
A MATCH YOU CAN’T CHANGE!
Want to prove me wrong? Tell me what you were thinking about while you were training just a bit ago? Was it Harrison? Or was it about the past?
America again stood there silently.
Bill: Hmmm?
The scowl on America’s face relaxed and he turned his gaze away from Bill.
Bill: No! Don’t turn away from me! You don’t get to do that. You can’t AFFORD to do that! Stand your fucking ground and MAN UP! I feel like… like you should be threatening me instead of just taking this! You always said you hated what you became when you coasted. I hate what you’ve become right now. Because it’s the same song and dance. You haven’t grown. You haven’t moved on. You’re right back where you started.
And worst of all…
You are what you hate.
Bill looked at America hard before he got up. He moved past America and exited his house.
*******
Facing the Highwaymen has left a bad taste in my mouth.
Nothing ever goes according to plan.
The victories continue but what I really WANT never comes to fruition. And no matter how many times I try I just can’t figure it out.
Joe Bergman outwrestled me. Somehow this false luchador outwrestled me and I had to resort to tactics that I didn’t want to so early in my return. To ensure victory, I had to low blow him. Right in the balls. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good to do it. There’s nothing in the world quite like kicking someone in the balls to help even the odds, especially when they’re a sanctimonious do-gooder who could use it. I mean, look at Joe now. He’s almost a completely different person. And when I pinned him to the mat, I felt good but… incomplete. Because I knew that my own ability wasn’t good enough.
When War Games came around and I pinned Clay Byrd, I knew that wasn’t my victory. Tyler and STRONK did the damage. And I, I was like a hyena or a jackal. I swooped in after the main predators had their fill and finished the rest. I pinned the de facto leader of the Highwaymen and again, I felt good but… incomplete. Because I knew that my strength wasn’t like STRONK’s. It wasn’t enough to take him one-on-one. And my intelligence wasn’t like Tyler’s. It wasn’t enough to attack him before the match. Which I should done to him and to Solex.
Steve Solex defied me. At Dead or Alive, I locked in a submission hold because I wanted one thing from him and one thing only. I wanted him to quit. Not his body. Fuck the body. I wanted his mind to quit. I wanted to see the neurons in his brain explode with pain before travelling their way down to his arms and watch him slap the mat as he QUIT! But he didn’t. He flipped me off. Oh sure, I won. And again, felt incomplete.
But now, I have an opportunity to change all of that.
I’ve learned from each of my encounters with the Highwaymen. And I’ve taken that and added it what I am now.
I’m going to extract from you the satisfaction that I didn’t get from the others. And I’m going to collect the past due payments from your friends. I’m going to outwrestle you, overpower you, outthink you, and survive longer than you. Because I’ve come so far and immortality is just on the horizon. I’m going to step on you as I make my way towards over 150 days as HOW World Champion. I have surpassed my second reign, Graystone’s reign, and Tara Michaels’ reign. Next are Jace’s and Sektor’s. More obstacles in my way as I climb further and further up the mountain of immortality.
That’s how serious I’m taking this match. But you? You’re not at all taking this seriously because you don’t take ME seriously. Think back. I called you out and offered you a World Championship match. And you know what you did? You had the back play some new music for you and you came out bobbing your head like a fucking doofus. You didn’t understand the weight and the gravity of the situation then and you sure as hell don’t understand it now. Oh sure, you’ll talk about the training, you’ll talk about how you just really liked your new music, and I’m sure you’ll talk about how serious you took our tag team match but it’s just fucking noise, isn’t it?
You don’t take it seriously because you don’t chase after this title like I do. You don’t make it an obsession like I do. You don’t get a World Title shot? Just another day in the life of Steve Harrison. I don’t get a World Title shot? I’ll burn the company down and attack every single person in sight to get my way.
This!
This championship!
It is the sun in my solar system.
EVERYTHING I DO… EVERYTHING ABOUT ME… REVOLVES AROUND IT!
It is the SOLE reason for my existence on this planet!
But instead, you talk about you being underrated and disrespected. How? How are you underrated and disrespected? Were you disrespected and underrated by holding the LSD and Tag Team Championships this year? AND successfully defending both on PPV? Were you disrespected when you lasted a respectable time in War Games?
Spare me the bullshit.
I picked you, Steve, because, yes, it completes the ‘Tour of the Highwaymen’ but I also picked you because you are the number two ranked wrestler in HOW.
This is game respecting game.
The reason you haven’t gotten a World Title shot ON YOUR OWN is because you don’t make the necessary changes to do so.
You follow. You followed in the Best Alliance. You followed in the Highwaymen. And since you want to throw Conor Fuse’s name out there, you followed him too, into defeat.
You never take the needed steps to progress yourself further.
Because you’re scared.
Because you don’t know what the fuck you’d do if you had her.
Because this championship has a way of humbling the most egotistical competitors. And whether you want to admit it or not, the Highwaymen, you especially, are one of the most egotistical douchebags on this roster. You called yourself a shark in your little analogy. That’s because up to this point, you’ve been swimming with minnows. You think you’re this big bad dude but really, I’m going to put you back into your place. I’m going to make you fall to the bottom of HOW’s ladder so you can hang out with your boy, Solex.
Wait.
Scratch that.
I’m going to do one better. I’m going to put you in the fucking hospital so you two can recover in beds next to each other. There, you can reminisce about the good old days before Christopher America came back to HOW. When the Board was just a gleam in the eye of Mike Best.
And don’t get me wrong, fuckface, this trash talk I’m serving you right now, doesn’t diminish how accomplished you are as a wrestler.
In fact, I’m going to say it clearly for you.
Steve Harrison is a great wrestler.
The problem is that I’m better than great.
I’m venerable. I’m exalted. I don’t idolize legends because to do so would force me to look down instead of pushing upwards and higher.
At Rumble at the Rock, I’m going to take any body part I can and lock it into a submission. I will twist it, pull it, turn it, and if need be, break it. If the way to retain my championship lies through fracturing every bone in your body, I will find a way to do it and make you tap. And if you’re too weak to tap the mat, I’ll take your shattered arm, your broken wrist, and your mangled fingers and slap the mat for you. Either way, I am going to get you to tap.
I’m going to get my satisfaction and collect the interest the Highwaymen owes me… through you.
What you don’t realize Harrison is that if you tap, you lose a World Championship match and you move on with your life. Chances are, you’ll still be ranked number two. You’ll still have had an amazing 2022.
But me?
I have so much more riding on this.
It’s not just the title.
It’s my legacy.
It’s her legacy.
It’s wiping away the stain of my loss to Mike Best those few years ago.
It’s about proving to myself and everyone else that Christopher America doesn’t need to walk away again.
It’s walking into ICONIC as the HOW World Champion, as the main event, something I’ve never done, something very few wrestlers ever accomplish. It’s fulfilling the dream of a young wrestler who walked into HOW all those years ago. To main event the big one as champion.
It’s beating the reign of JPD and John Sektor, pushing my way further towards Mike Best’s unprecedented reign.
It’s about walking into ICONIC against I don’t know who. And that excites me. What lies beyond Rumble at the Rock? Beyond the Highwaymen?
I don’t know and I’m not going to think about it. Because the moment I look past you is the moment that this title slips from my fingers.
She and I belong together!
We were made for each other!
And I will walk out of Rumble at the Rock the way I walked into it.
The exact SAME.
Simply… HOW WORLD CHAMPION!