Special Treatment

Special Treatment

Posted on February 8, 2023 at 5:28 am by Jace Parker Davidson

Jace’s Home Office
Denver, Colorado
Monday, February 6th, 2023

It was the late morning, soon to be early afternoon in Denver. Inside the place known as ‘Sanctuary’ to both Samantha Tolson and Jace Parker Davidson we find the current LSD Champion seated behind a large desk in his office. Jace had decided to make this his temporary HQ to deal with all the things that he needed to take care of when he wasn’t busy training, inside the ring, or traveling. 

Jace had caught a late-night flight from Indiana back here to Denver after last night’s Chaos 021 event. Jace had joined Joe Hoffman to do commentary during the LSD tournament finals match between Darin Zion and Steve Solex. Later that night, he was stopped by Brian Bare who managed to get him to share his thoughts on the winner of the LSD tournament and the fact that on Saturday night he would have to defend the LSD Championship belt in the Lethal Lottery. He didn’t bother to stay and check out the rest of the show. 

He left Indiana as quickly as he could and made it back here to Denver sometime before dawn. Jace hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He hasn’t eaten anything since before Choas went live on air the night before. There was a mug sitting on the top right edge of his desk half full of coffee that had long since gone cold. The rest of the desk was stacked with a laptop, paperwork, and a laundry list of stuff that needed his attention. 

He was hunched over the desk looking down at one of the documents in front of him through the reading glasses he had on. Just wanted to get up and go to sleep. He wanted to soak in the hot tub and forget about all the work he had to do. He was sore from wrestling in a ladder match on Saturday night, traveling to Denver on Sunday morning for a football game, flying to Indiana after the game was over, and then back here to Denver after that. 

You didn’t get to be where Jace was in life by getting to go to sleep or lounge around whenever you wanted to. 

He tried to ignore the piercing headache that was trying to cripple his efforts to be productive. He powered through and began to write on one of the documents before the door to his office swung open. Abdullah Choi stepped inside and spoke up.

“I just got the official word that the next show has been pushed back to the 25th.” Choi informed as he looked down at the tablet in his hands. 

“The show is this coming Saturday night, the night before Super Bowl Sunday. No way they are pushing the Lethal Lottery back to the 25th.” Jace responded without looking up from the paperwork on his desk. 

“I didn’t mean the HOW show.” Choi corrected. “I was talking about the next Uprising show.”

Jace furrowed his brow but continued his work. 

“I might not even be booked for that show. It’s fine, could probably do with a bit of a break after being booked on back-to-back shows. One less day full of travel.” He admitted.

“Speaking of travel.” Choi chimed in. “Might want to book that flight to Cleveland ahead of time. With the big game being this weekend I’m sure that tickets are going to be scarce. Unless of course, you’re going to depend on Miss Tolson and the use of her private jet.”

There was a hopeful glee in Choi’s voice.

“I can make it to Cleveland just fine without the use of Samantha’s private jet.” He said in a no-nonsense kind of way.

Choi’s disappointment is interrupted by the office door opening and one of the STRONKUMMS’ personal assistants steps into the room.

“Mr. Davidson, because of the severe shortage of eggs, we’re not sure if we have enough supply to do the next batch of breakfast-flavored Liquid STRONKUMMS.” The assistant confessed.

“Then move the breakfast-flavored Liquid STRONKUMMS to the out-of-stock category and focus on making the regular Liquid STRONKUMMS.” Jace raised his head from the paperwork and took off his glasses. “We need to focus on pushing more of the original STRONKUMMS product. Liquid STRONKUMMS was a good idea but trying to sell meat-flavored energy drinks laced with steroids and cocaine is fucking pricy.”

“I don’t think Lee Best or GREAT SCOTT are going–” Jace raised his hand and cut the assistant off mid-sentence.

“Last time I checked, I am the sole owner of the STRONKUMMS brand. So, if I decide to focus more on frozen Camel meat infused with steroids then Lee Best, GREAT SCOTT, and whoever the fuck else is just going to have to deal with it.” Jace commanded.

“Don’t you think that it’s about time we change the name of the company?” Choi chimed in. “Why call the company STRONKUMMS LLC when Stronk isn’t even ‘STRONK’ anymore.”

“Because I fucking said so, that’s why.” Jace hissed. “I get that you’re fucking terrified of Godson ever finding out your dirty little secret. But I still consider him a friend and we’re keeping the name of the company what it is. Regardless of if he’s got a hand in the operation or not.”

The door to the office once again opens and a second assistant steps into the room and looks around.

“Did you all know that Miss Tolson is in a foul mood?” He said, barely above a whisper.

“That time of the month?” Choi mused out loud. 

“She’s mad at me. Not only was I right and she was wrong about an argument we had last week, but she decided that since today is Monday that she wanted me to take her out on a date.” 

“Okay, and?” Choi raised his eyebrow.

“I told her no and when she asked why? I told her I had other priorities at the moment.” Jace said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The three men all cringe over how he handled that situation. Suddenly, yet another assistant opened the door and stepped into the office.

“Mr. Davidson, we have a situation.” The female assistant revealed. “After the loss yesterday afternoon, it seems like your starting QB has demanded a trade from the team.”

“We’re not even halfway through the season!” Jace exclaimed.

“True, but Miss Niles is beyond frustrated with the fact that the team has a 2-3 record right now. Along with the fact that she got sacked eight different times yesterday.” The female assistant scrunched her face.

“Tell Nakita that I’ll talk to her when I get the chance. As you can see I’m a busy man. She just needs to get on the practice field with her team and keep working hard until then.” Jace barks.

“If we’re going to focus more on original STRONKUMMS…” One of the other assistants brought up. “Might I suggest we used the meat from a different animal? It’s not every single day that you see a Camel just strolling down the street.”

Before Jace can respond, he starts getting a video call on his laptop. He glances at the screen and sees the person calling is his best friend and Head Coach of his football team, Devin Skylar.

“I got an email from Michael Lee Best.” Another assistant piped in. “He says you haven’t fulfilled your duties at TEN-X Wrestling lately and is wondering just when you planned on instructing another training session?”

“He doesn’t have time for that!” Choi answered for Jace. “He needs to start doing interviews and promotional work for March 2 Glory coming up soon. Lee Best hasn’t been particularly thrilled that you’ve not done an autograph signing event in a long, long time. Gotta keep Boss man’s pocket’s fat and happy.”

The sound of Jace’s phone beeping can be heard. He leans back in his seat and pulls out his phone. He thumbs over the screen before opening up his messages. Jace narrows his eyes as he sees multiple text messages from Samantha Skylar complaining that her brother Devin won’t let her run routes more often rather than just blocking.

“Your mother has left ten different voicemail messages about what happened between you and your biological father. How should I respond to her?” Another assistant asks.

“What are you doing for Miss Tolson on Valentine’s Day?” The female assistant asks. 

“The real question is what you’re doing for your birthday? Can never go wrong with hookers and blow!” Choi suggests.

Choi and all of the assistants start to bicker and talk over each other trying to get Jace’s attention. The LSD Champion slams his hands down onto his desk hard and then shouts at the top of his lungs.

“EVERYONE OUT!” Jace’s voice echoes throughout the office.

However, everyone continues arguing and talking over each other. Jace slides his chair away from his desk and then pulls himself up to his feet. Jace storms past the other people in the office and heads for the door.

“Where are you going?!” One assistant cries out.

“OUT!” Jace screams.

“But who is going to get all this stuff done?!” Choi gestures to all the paperwork on the desk and the unanswered problems that keep piling up. 

“DON’T KNOW, DON’T CARE. YOU GUYS FIGURE IT OUT!” Jace throws his hands into the air.

Jace pulls open the door and exits the office before slamming the door shut behind him as hard as he possibly can. Everyone left in the other looks at each other with confusion written all over their faces as the scene fades.


Yet another Lethal Lottery. 

Not just any Lethal Lottery, but one being held in Cleveland, Ohio of all places. I wish I could just fast forward past all this bullshit right to March 2 Glory in Manchester, England. Sadly, that’s just not how real life works. 

Lethal Lotteries are a mixed bag. 

Either you walk in with everything to gain and nothing to lose. Or you walk in as a Champion having to prepare for every person on the fucking roster.  Putting in all the work, and getting yourself all lathered up and ready to compete only to find out that you didn’t draw a spot in an actual match is another possible outcome. 

Wonderful fucking time, let me tell ya.

The last time we did a Lethal Lottery, I walked into the event as someone that didn’t have to defend a title. Just like everyone else at that event, I got slotted into the big battle royal match. The one where the winner would get a shot at the HOW World Championship belt. 

I dominated that match and I tossed people out of the ring like soiled diapers until I was the last man standing. I got my hand raised in victory, I had my music playing and the crowd cheering for me. The show went to a fucking commercial break. 

Only for Scott Stevens to sneak into the ring behind me and reveal himself as a surprise entrant in the match. 

Stevens manages to toss me over the top rope even though I was in the match from the opening bell. After I fought against every single person in the match. Scott Stevens got to weasel his way in after I did all the fucking work and stole that title shot away from me. 

That’s a familiar pattern when it comes to Scott Stevens. 

And yet as much as I want to blame Stevens for being a shitty fucking coward. It’s Lee Best that sat back and allowed that to happen. 

Now in this Lethal Lottery, I walk in as LSD Champion but have no idea just who I am defending against or what kind of match it will be. For all I know, that cage match that is being rumored could be for me and whoever my opponent ends up being. 

So, what do I do?

I pull up my big boy pants. I put in the work, I put in the effort, and I do everything in my power to walk out of the Lethal Lottery still the LSD Champion against a motherfucker who lucks into a free title shot.


Free fucking shot at MY LSD Championship belt and yet, some motherfucker is going to draw that match. Some ungrateful dick or bitch will see they got a match against the GREATEST LSD Champion of all time and they’ll be disappointed. 

They’ll feel cheated because they drew a shot at the LSD Championship belt, not the HOW World Championship belt. 

Excuse the fuck out of me???

You ignorant fucks. When you’re walking into a Lethal Lottery with absolutely fuck all to call your own and no match at the PPV booked. You look at any title belt as a goddamn blessing. 

Yet, I guarantee one or more of you bastards will come out this week talking about how I’m a failure of an LSD Champion. That somehow you would make a better LSD Champion than the man that has done more with the LSD Championship than anyone else ever. 

You’ll throw out the same recycled bullshit that everyone else does. The world just needs another ‘Jace is horny’ punchline or an ‘Onlyfans’ joke. Because none of you can come up with anything fucking better.

And why would you?

This is the behavior and the standard that’s promoted before your very eyes from the very top of the fucking food chain. 

You’ll hear about Steve Solex is great because he’s #1 in the rankings right now even though we’re not even through fucking February yet. You’ll hear about how Joe Bergman is a legend for winning the HOTv Championship belt and just the model of consistency. 

All while forgetting about the guy that made the HOTv Championship something that didn’t crash and burn within weeks of its introduction.

You’ll hear about how Christopher America was cheated at PWA 01 and how it was such a great performance even in defeat. But none of you will talk about how I took the man with the talent and personality of a goddamn boulder and carried him to the top of the mountain in the tag team division. 

You’ll see footage of GREAT SCOTT going to the CEO of the company and begging for a shot at 97red even though he was still the HOTv Champion at the time. Why? Because no one values a fucking thing anymore. It’s all about what I don’t have instead of cherishing what I do have. 

But this is HOW.

Where Darin Zion body wash or placing Stronk on a PPV poster with a random woodland creature like he’s the newest Disney Princess gets more promotion than one of the absolute best wrestlers to ever step foot in this company. 

If random wrestler #42 comes down to the ring and beats me for the LSD Championship belt? It’ll be a monumental history-defining moment. They’ll be talking about it going into War Games this year.


If I beat random #42 and retain the LSD Championship belt. If I continue what is already an untouchable legacy with this Championship belt?

No one will say a fucking thing or bat a motherfucking eye. 

It’s no big deal. It’s what is SUPPOSED to happen. It’s just Jace doing Jace things. But bet your goddamn ass we’ll throw a parade for the motherfucker that has an “impressive showing even in defeat” for about a mouth.

Go fuck yourselves.

Maybe if I talked to my Championship belts and swaddled them like a newborn child I’d be ‘over’ here in HOW. 

Maybe if I called myself “Ordinary” and did old territory gimmicks from promotions back in the 70s and 80’s then I’d get that pat on the back and be held in high regard.

Maybe if I was Lee Best’s offspring, or was adopted by him, then I’d be treated like a big fucking deal around here. 

Maybe if I got beaten by someone like me multiple times, flamed out, then went and opened my own company out of spite… I’d possibly be in the so-called inner circle. 

 I’m tired, literally fucking exhausted of this shit.

I’m sick of being the hardest working individual in this company, in this business, but ranking near the bottom of the totem pole in recognition. 

I’m tired of being the guy with a majority of the records for title reigns or the guy responsible for the prestige any given belt has, just to hear “Boy, that Brian Hollywood really tried hard to win this week!”

I’m done playing second, third, and even fourth fiddle to men and women who aren’t qualified enough to wipe my ass for a living. 

I have done more than enough over the years to earn your respect and yet you still won’t give it.


I’m going to stop being so giving of myself and start taking from every single one of you.


Later That Day

A lot of things didn’t make sense to Jace at the moment. He ended 2022 holding three different Championship belts. Something that no one in recent memory had accomplished. He was living in rarified air. You couldn’t script a better way to end 2022 for a professional wrestler. Five years away from professional wrestling and yet three years in he managed to reinvent himself year in and year out. He managed to surpass what he was before and keep outdoing himself. 

What thanks did he get for it?

He walked into PWA 01 listening to someone who lost back-to-back matches at ICONIC try to downplay his accomplishments saying the typical “I let him win” bullshit. He walked into a HOTv World Tag Team Championship match handicapped even though he was already wearing the shackles and the anchor known as Scott Stevens. Just to be paraded out to defend against a tag team had absolutely zero business competing for the HOTv World Tag Team Championship belts. 

It was the equivalent of being slotted on a PPV against the emergency backup wrestlers just for the simple sake of saying ‘The titles will be defended on the show!’

Only for it to end the way it did, only to walk backstage and basically be told in so many words that ‘you would have definitely had it in the bag if not for Scott Stevens, tough luck.’

No…. really?!?!?!

He would have won a handicapped situation if he wasn’t trying to swim across the seven seas with that anchor tied around his neck.


Scott Stevens wasn’t his choice, and facing The Alabama Gang wasn’t his request. None of this was HIS problem but he still got the classic ‘Yeah, but…’ in response. Okay, yeah, just deal and move forward but you got to ask… where the fuck is his rematch?!

This isn’t just a double standard, is it?

He doesn’t have to come out and claim a whole ass section of every arena we go to and demand rematches just to get them, does he?

That would be silly and yet here we are.

It’s fucking hysterical how ‘certain people’ can embarrassingly lose a title but get a new partner and a new chance at the said title just because. It’s laughable how ‘certain people’ can flame out in the tournament in the first fucking round then turn around and walk right into a shot at another title. 

Not everyone gets the same treatment. 

So… what do you do? When your working environment is like this. When your other obligations are piling up, it feels like you’re being pulled in ten different directions at once. When everyone around you is depending on you to do all the work but no one is putting you on that pedestal for doing said work and doing it well. 

You say fuck that and fuck everything else. 

You drop everything in an instant and you don’t the only thing that still makes sense to you. For Jace, that was going to the gym and training. The entire world might be fucked and everyone in it is self-absorbed.

However, the weights don’t judge you unfairly. The weights don’t give special treatment to some, but not to others. 

Weights are simple. You put in the work and you gain the rewards, no questions asked. 

That’s where Jace went to clear his head and figure things out. After a few hours of doing that, he packed up his stuff and drove around the city a little bit. Nothing but the open road and the sound of the world buzzing by him. 

He found himself in a secluded spot that overlooked the city. He parked his car then took his gym bag and had a seat on the ground. He sat and looked over the place he now called home and he allowed the answers to all his questions to come to him. 

Did he have too many irons in the fire? Possibly, but he had done the whole focused on-one-thing and one thing only routine in the past. While good for the moment, boredom would eventually set in and you could only smack around the same people over and over again before it just became tedious. 

So, yes, he went out and decided to help Stronk, when he was ‘STRONK’, create and promote the STRONKUMMS Brand. So much so, that the man’s ‘dying wish’ was to leave his controlling interest in the company to him. He ran the company and kept the name to honor his friend. Did that friend ever once call him up and say ‘Hey buddy, I didn’t die!’ like ever? Nope, it was just kept under wraps and he was kept in the dark until it was revealed to the world. 

Even though he had kept the dream alive. Even though he had named someone else the first-ever sponsored athlete of STRONKUMMS. What did they do to thank him for all of that? They plotted, planned, and schemed together. They took his product and decided to run with it without so much as a text message giving him a head’s up. 

He decided to get involved with TEN-X Wrestling because he was a member of The Board and they were all going to pitch in to make it a success. Only Mike Best was the owner, Tyler was the #1 student, and people like Farthington, Dan Ryan, and even fucking Lindsay Troy got all the credit for making Tyler Adrian Best into the rookie monster that he turned out to be. 

Where are any of them now?

Has anyone seen Farthington? Have we checked Mike Best’s rectal cavity? No? Not there? Damn. Where is Lindsay Troy? Off somewhere ruling her own sandbox with an iron fist and poaching HOTv talent for funsies.

Where is Dan Ryan? Well, now that he’s gotten the ‘you’re forgiven’ hug from the boss. He hasn’t set foot inside of TEN-X Wrestling because he’s got a ‘better gig now.’

When is the last time Mike Best even did a fucking thing with his creation? Does anyone want to take a guess? No? Well… I guess coming out of retirement to give Xander Azula ‘the rub’ is more important than his other ventures. 

TEN-X Wrestling would be another wrestling troupe placed on the shelf to collect dust if not for Jace. He was the person that took over when no one else gave a flying fuck anymore. He’s the one that taught the classes. That kept the lights on. That recruited students to come and train. 

The thanks he got? Angry emails and passive-aggressive messages about how he wasn’t doing a good enough job keeping someone else’s dream alive. 

So, he went and single-handedly put an end to the rookie monster personally. He beat Tyler so badly that he went M.I.A before finally turning up in PRIME. Surprise, surprise, Lindz strikes again. Now, he decided to take another step to lighten his load. He sent a message to Mike Best saying he should go fuck himself and that he quit. Being the only guy that gave a fuck about TEN-X Wrestling wasn’t worth the chump change he got as compensation. 

Sure, he went and brought an LFL team. Yes, he want and brought an estate in Denver. And yes, he went and signed his name on the dotted line for another company. All things that required his effort and attention, but unlike with TEN-X Wrestling, these were his things not someone else’s. He got to call the shots, make the decisions, and get the credit for all his hard work. 

The world would have to rip the STRONKUMMS Brand from his cold dead hands. He had the controlling shares of the company. He was the rightful owner and he was going to decide where and how the company was presented to the masses. If they tried to stop him? They would be up to their assholes in lawsuits. 

He decided to keep a firm hold on what was rightfully his and that came to STRONKUMMS and the LSD Championship belt. 

Being a team player wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. You got stuck with all the hard work but got none of the praise. He was tired of being asked how he felt about not being an official member of The Final Alliance. The question people should have been asking is ‘when is Jace Parker Davidson going to lead his own group of wrestlers to take over HOW?’

Everyone feared Lee Best, everyone bowed down to Lee Best. Everyone revered Lee Best. 

It was times like these that Jace sat and thought about GOD. He thought about all he’d done in the name of the GOD of HOW but the reality was…

Every time someone cowered before GOD, Jace would raise his head and realize that GOD was just a myth. He would look to the Heavens and realize the sky was empty. 

GOD might act almighty, but a King kneels to no one.

They needed to be reminded of that fact. 

They needed to realize that you can only keep a beast on a short leash for so long before he runs free. 

Why did he need to be censored when others weren’t? Why did he need stipulations in his contract to make sure he behaved inside a lawless jungle?

They decided to try and take the matches out of his hands so that he couldn’t play with fire. 

It was time he stood tall and came back with a fucking flame thrower. 


That didn’t stand for Lee’s Superstar Division. It sure as fuck didn’t stand for Love Still Dominates. 

LSD is the definition of violence.

If you think setting Ray McAvay on fire was crossing a line. 

You’re going to love it when he shows you just how Lethal he can make this Lottery.