The Unmindful Ones:
Ones that lack intelligence yet call you stupid.
Ones that make fun of your looks yet look like moldy burned yeast.
Ones that cannot read yet bring signs to wrestling events their children wrote for them.
Ones given a chance at a Miracle yet use their girlfriends (hands) to throw it back at ME, a man of righteousness.
I will never understand the trash that lives in this country. The boastfully stupid and the proudly uneducated will tell you what is correct. I am sorry, I bring forth a time of change in this garbage fire and these wrestling fans would rather cheer for the boring and the washed out.
My smirk becomes a frown.
My face reddens.
I cannot stand having to breath the same air as these masses of tumors that garble out bullshit at wrestling events.
They disrespect the Miracle being offered them and don’t even recycle the Miracle Enterprise Pamphlets.
Brian Hollywood was given a chance at redemption but instead of coming to me and raising my hand after my victory he did what every other brain malnourished wrestler does: flip out. What a lost cause.
Enough about the past though, it is time to look for the future.
I sat in my hotel room and watched War Games. I gritted my teeth but not because of the violence on hand but because I was not invited to the show—
–Ok well…the violence was a little head turning.
I suppose HOW was doing me a solid because my face is one of my greatest selling points as part of Miracle Enterprise. Nobody would want to see The Minister trying to stab yours truly with a pen. Nobody would want to see Brian Hollywood hit me with a lead pipe. Nobody would want to see me smacked in the head by Andy Murray with his illegal titanium knee brace.
As the Miracle Man I do expect certain doors to open for me unconditionally. I came back from my sabbatical a tad too late I suppose, or maybe right on time. I am fresh and ready to fight while everyone involved the other night are still trying to get their bones back in place.
I am just hoping Lee Best is ok after that ugly and unlawful attack he received from Kostoff. We cannot have such a pillar of HOW being harmed like that, especially after he gifted us such a beautiful aircraft carrier. Only a man of means could do such great things for a wrestling company.
Now after having several weeks off from my grand beginning I am hopeful for another match to prove that I am indeed the future.
Now let me see–
–I am facing–
Fuck, um…let me uh—yea.
Five Minutes Later
A literal monster.
A 6’5 Forty-Nine-year-old jacked monster.
Happy Belated Birthday by the way, Mr. Kostoff.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself.
The fact I must face a HOW Hall of Famer who also has attempted murder without batting an eye is not reassuring. I would like to think that I am being given this assignment because Mr. Best needs a new person he can get behind. I am here to help tear apart a monster’s neck so at No Remorse he walks to the ring without being able to move his head.
It is only right that a man who can promise Miracles is here to tear apart this man. Yes, Kostoff is nothing but a man. He may live off Protein shakes, needles in the ass, and paying other people for their piss to pass drug tests but, it is still a human under those ugly veins.
I bring upon this man a light of humility. It is time for him to understand that almost two decades of dominance does not make you immortal. For all the titles you have won, all the feuds you have dominated, and all the people you have destroyed you still stick around and struggle to be the wrestler you once were.
Most sane people would have taken the hint and walked away with whatever respect they had still intact. You—on the other hand, well shit—look at your record.
It reads like an average Cleveland Browns season.
That is the punchline, folks.
It is not a surprise that I believe chopping Kostoff down to his knees will work best. I am not talking about Kneesus Christ either, I am talking about giving Kostoff the Enlightenment he deserves…over and over…
I find it awkward when I watch a man’s head move in ways God did not intend it to and a smirk comes to my face. I did not say I found it wrong, just odd that my ‘O’ face smirk happens when harming someone and when having an orgasm.
Lindsay Troy understands, am I right Michael?
I digress, this shouldn’t be about our deviant sexual fantasies or we would be here all day talking about my extremely successful dating service while on the island.
This is about me leaving as little as possible of you left as I can, Kostoff. The rest will be left to our benevolent leader to finish burying your once acclaimed career.
I am positive you will overlook me and yell angrily at a camera about what you did to Lee. Let me suggest you don’t go that route. Look around—I am here to reap upon the washed and show them a new way of life—
Come to me Kostoff, I am just a call and a payment away from helping you—evolve.
Rebecca Hines stretched her slender pale arms to the sky as she stepped out of a Taxi. She shut the door slowly and thanked the driver. She put her hand to her sunglasses and placed them from laying in her brown hair to covering her eyes. The weather was in the mid 80’s and stepping out of the AC in the car to the New York City melting pavement was not an enjoyable experience. She had not visited her old teacher and friend: Sandy Reed-Lawson in several years. Their social encounters had gotten less and less frequent and then none since Steve Harrison had left for his island adventure. It was an odd relationship now. Rebecca, as much as she tried not to, blamed Sandy for much of the dismay in her life.
It was Sandy who was the one behind her becoming the Publicist for Steve Harrison.
It was Sandy that got her involved with the shady family that gave her nightmares. If it wasn’t Steve’s insane antics and lack of morals, it was Steve’s father. He gave off an air of malicious intent. The knowledge he would get away with whatever he did because of his status in the gray area of life he resided powerfully within.
A door man stood in front of the high-rise building Rebecca walked towards. He opened the door for her and acknowledged her with a friendly smile and nod of the head.
This building was rumored to have several hidden floors where special key cards were needed to enter. It would not surprise Rebecca in the least if this was true because this building was owned by Sandy’s husband who has several dealings with Steve’s father.
She tried to forget about it all and pushed the up button at the elevator in the lobby. The door opened and Rebeca pushed ‘22.’
The elevator stopped at the Twenty Second Floor and Rebecca walked to the left and knocked on a door.
Rebecca took a deep breath and let it out quickly, readying herself for this conversation. She put a fake smile on, opened the door and walked in. Her old colleague sat in a recliner with a glass of water in her hand. Sandy smiled and nodded for her to sit in the recliner across from her. “Rebecca, great to see you, please sit.”
Rebecca did what was requested and crossed her legs continuing her smile towards Sandy. “I cannot help to feel like you are studying me. We are in your office and you are a psychiatrist, I think you can understand.”
Sandy nodded, “don’t worry, I am not charging,” she laughed and continued, “just two friends getting reacquainted, it has been a long time, Ms. Hines.”
“It has. I don’t think I will ever get away from this mess, friend.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes, “Steve, his family, and sorry to say–you.”
Sandy squinted at Rebecca and shrugged, “I remember over ten years ago, a recent college graduate and one of my top students needing a job. Out of the goodness of my heart I found her a very high paying job.” Years ago, Sandy taught psych 101 during the days when she wasn’t practicing. It did not last long but during that time she had Rebecca as a student.
Rebecca began tapping her foot in annoyance and responded, “I am glad you are on the team of alternative facts. It really doesn’t matter though, does it? It doesn’t matter if we are not actually friends. We both share the same unfortunate circumstances to be stuck in this mess.”
“I married into this mess. You were hired to watch a stupid failure of a wrestler. For ten years all you had to was watch from far away and make sure he didn’t die, and you are now complaining to me because he didn’t die? Is that what this is about? Were you hoping that Steve would die?”
Rebecca sneered at Sandy and shook her head slowly. “No, Sandy.”
Sandy took a sip from her water and smirked, “of course not, Rebecca. I believe you, but please remind me what this is about. You do know Steve is going to be here in twenty minutes, right?”
Rebecca sighed and nodded, “I am in Public Relations, I am not that guy’s, lackey.”
“Steve has become a monster. For ten years he has been a child with that island as his toy. He did what he wanted and never got in any trouble. He already had that brain damage, and this made it worse. He honestly believes that everything he does is good. There is nothing bad if he thinks of it, does it, or pays for it,” Rebecca finishes asseverated.
Sandy leans forward in her chair and lets out a loud sigh. “I have heard about his businesses down there. There is nothing you can do about your job, but you are correct, you are not his lackey.”
“Good, then you will do something about this?” Rebecca responded with a hint of happiness but not trying to get too excited over something that ultimately could be worse knowing how this has gone down for the last ten years.
“Yes…I have some ideas.”
It had been several days since Steve Harrison’s victorious debut in HOW. Without a match at War Games he had nothing to do but build Miracle Enterprise and take phone calls from people he would rather forget. He answered the phone though and on the other end was Sandy Reed-Lawson. Steve had not talked to her in over ten years.
He first met her about twelve years ago when he was training to become a wrestler with her husband as his trainer. The next time they met was after he was released from the hospital after the car crash that had left him in a two-month coma. He visited her as a client then. At that time Steve did not know who he was. He was in love with wrestling but was always on the losing end, even nicknaming himself as The Failure. After the accident he was always angry. He and was afraid of what was happening not recognizing himself and having dreams where he felt glee while harming others.
It was supposed to be a confidence session. She was trying to help Steve understand that it is ok to have confidence and that he can overcome himself to become a better man and wrestler. Instead, the new Steve got stronger and stronger, feeding off the nice things she would say. Unbeknownst to Sandy the coma had silenced part of Staves brain and it was getting quieter and quieter by the day. He had become amoral and it was not because it was who he was, but it was because of what had happened.
Sandy realized and cut off their business relationship and had helped put Rebecca Hines in place to watch him and hopefully help him rediscover himself.
It didn’t happen.
It has gotten worse.
Steve had been called to Sandy’s office to talk about the future. Steve paced outside the office mumbling to himself. It had been a hot day and he could have sworn he had seen Rebecca leave the building earlier when he was driving up to the front lobby door. He had a crooked smirk on his face and sweat on the top of his shaven head. He wiped his head and sighed as he wiped his hand on his khaki pants. He stopped pacing in front of the door and opened the door without knocking. Not a surprise as Steve Harrison did not respect manners. He strode in and saw Sandy sitting in her recliner still. She looked up at Steve not surprised at all by his intrusion.
“Great manners as always,” Sandy mused.
Steve froze looking uneasy at her calmness. He took a small step backwards and stared at Sandy. “I didn’t think good friends like us needed to knock,” Steve responded sarcastically.
Sandy nodded and took a sip of the same water as earlier. “I called you in because my husband is out of the country and was very amused to hear you were back wrestling. He had thought you were a lost cause after the last ten years–”
Steve cut Sandy off, “then why can’t he say this himself?”
Sandy laughed and looked at Steve like he was stupid. “Really?”
Steve paused and thought to himself. It was hard for him to remember reasons for things that were so long ago and did not kowtow to how he sees himself now. “I really don’t know, but a trainer should be proud of a trainee as great as the Miracle Man.”
He cut her off again, “I am Excellence Personified, bringing forth a new world, of joy and equality.”
Sandy shakes her head beginning to get angry after being cut off by Steve again. “You might not want to call yourself Excellence Personified. I believe he has that trademarked. As I was saying though. You cannot honestly believe you are so great when you cannot apply the STF correctly–STILL.”
Steve’s eyes darted back and forth. He wiped his brow again as his face became red and sweaty from being humiliated. “YOU CALLED ME HERE TO MAKE FUN OF ME ABOUT A FUCKING STF?” He screamed, losing his cool.
Steve’s anger was loud but whiny and Sandy just leaned back in her recliner again and looked back at Steve. She studied him like any doctor would as she moved her dirty blonde hair from her eyes. “I guess I hit a nerve. I have given up on helping you mentally. On a personal note I still must look out for you. You also know why any conversation between us must be in person and not on a phone. Do we really have to go over everything again?”
Steve took a deep breath and nodded back at Sandy. “Very well, so what is your plan?” Harrison replied with a new sense of calm.
“You need a new trainer and someone that can help you with your bags—”
Steve interrupt again, “SO that was Rebecca I saw earlier?”
Steve chuckled quietly, “did she come here and complain about me? She is always trying to stop me from helping all the down and out citizens of America.”
“Rebecca is not your assistant, Steve. You need someone that can help you with wrestling. She is supposed to focus on PR and keeping your misdeeds out of the public.”
Steve scoffs taking offense of the misdeed comment, “Pssh, I am an upstanding citizen, what I do is always right, or I wouldn’t do it, Sandy. How about you tell me what you have in mind?”
Sandy smiled, “my husband decided it would be good to have a wrestling support group for those suffering from the aftereffects of wrestling or because they no longer can wrestle.”
“I am sure one of them would love to have this opportunity,” Sandy finished with a nod.
Steve shook his head totally confused by all of this, “I am scared to ask who would show up for a group like this.”
“Well let’s talk about who can help you the most. Please sit down.”
Steve slowly moved to the other recliner and sat down, “I am going to need a drink for this.”
A fucking STF.
A fucking generic submission move.
Yea—ok—sure, so maybe I am not an expert on the move.
My freaking bio says I perform this move poorly. Who the hell thought putting that would be smart? Is this some sick joke of Rebecca’s?
She is already trying to run away from me as quickly as she can. I suppose I should not complain since she isn’t a very enthusiastic member of Miracle Enterprise. I need someone who will fight a meth head for a piece of day-old bread from a dumpster.
Am I asking for too much my Miracle Marks?
I think not.
I did not miss that woman but too say I have any options other then her would be like me playing Russian Roulette by myself.
Simply. Terrible. Females.
I am being given a new Employee for Miracle Enterprise and she had the gall to say he can help with the STF.
Back to that stupid STF.
Man, fuck the STF.
I am going to pound back some Crown Royal Vanilla and try to forget who is about to help me.