Thanks-Getting

Thanks-Getting

Posted on December 2, 2020 at 9:10 pm by Steve Harrison

 

 

Ahhhhhhhhh!

Let me Enlighten you.

Miracle Enterprise Products for all, law advice for none. 

 

Just when you think yet another deserved Title shot has gone down the drain a Miracle occurs.  Finally, a Miracle has been given to The Miracle Man.  As I have stated I am not here to help you fools any longer with your Miracles.  I have had enough issues with title shots in HOW to write a book about it and let’s be honest…it would sell better than Champion Coke Monster’s autobiography.

I watched as Lindsay Troy made Hughie Freeman pass out and claim the LSD title and I seethed.  There may or may not be some holes in some drywall inside The Best Arena, don’t worry I will send a guy to patch those up.

I won’t, that Arena needs a Health Check anyway.

I got back to my hotel room and started in on some Whiskey—the cheap shit too.  It really did not matter to me at that point and before I could do my cosplay of a washed-up Rock Star and destroy the room my phone vibrated.

It was from Lee Best.

I laughed, how the hell can this eyeless freak even text, but I forgot he has helpers.  This is when I read at ICONIC the LSD title will be defended in a four-way dance.  I put the cheap Whiskey down and exclaimed to the ceiling that The Miracle Man will get what is rightfully his after all.

Of course, Lee Best gives, and Lee Best puts a member of The Best Alliance in my way threatening my undefeated record.

 

“He did a 20-minute mile, he smoked a pack of cigarettes, and he used cheap mustache coloring.”  Anonymous

 

Did I do that right?

Am I now a made man within HOW because I put some stupid quote in my promo?

I mean…anonymous sounds like an honest fellow.

John Sektor so proud that he hasn’t had a heart attack in the ring since he has gotten back, he celebrates by smoking a cigarette.  If this isn’t the height of class I am not sure what is.  In the future when I read Florida-Man dies while walking on treadmill with full ashtray to the side of him I am sure to toss Jatt Starr a month subscription to Nutrisystem, so he doesn’t die in the same fashion.

I am not going to lie and tell you know I know a lot about you, John.  I am certain you will feel insulted by that, but it has nothing to do with you.  I did not pay attention to wrestling while I was on the Island but do not worry, I have a good feel on who you have become the past two years.  There is no denying you have been a successful wrestler.  Just two War Games ago you came out as HOW World Champion.  This is obviously not something to scoff at.

A man with great talent and absolutely no work ethic to stay on top.  You are the arrogant twat that finally makes it back to the top and sits on his hands.  You won that title and instead said fuck it I am going to fall ass backwards into a bathtub full of needles.

Not even one successful title defense and this is from a man who has had four separate World title reigns?  Were you unable to find the heroin you needed those other three times?  This place is full of stereotype drug addicts, it is pathetic.   I suppose after five years you just could not handle the pressure anymore.  I mean your blood pressure is high and I wouldn’t be surprised if during a blood test you were told you were Maple Syrup Positive.

A legend of HOW.

A Hall of Famer.

These are all true but again it does not mean a lick to me.  The Miracle Man just sees another failure at life who takes his heart pills and meanders down to the ring so he can pay for a life that his wrinkles and man boobs prove he is too old to succeed at.  It is ok to realize that women or more importantly girls who just graduated college have no interest in you.  You can polish your 80’s porn star mustache and tighten your girdle all you want but they don’t give a shit if you are a wrestler or have a classic muscle car you stopped making payments on.

You know because Heroin isn’t cheap, right?

I am a certified dick head?

Maybe, but you cannot say I am lying.

As much as I might respect the boss, I do have to question his logic in surrounding himself with people that are expensive to insure.  Maybe I am angry that I did not get that call to lead the new Best Alliance, extra perks are never something I would shake my head no at.  I mean—who wouldn’t want to have ME on their side?

You, John?

Don’t lie, you know damn well you want the undefeated future LSD Champion by your side.

I am not here to insult you on your moral shortcomings though because I believe you should be able to do what you desire.  But I can still highlight behavior that has made you a weaker man and lose what little pride you had left when you partnered up with former enemies.  How did it feel to share a room with Max Kael when he was alive, John?

Did you ever once look over and ask him about Chloe?

Did you ever grab him and demand that you get your child back?

No?

It is no, right?

Heh.

You can tell yourself it is because it would hurt her since she does not remember who you are, but the truth is different, right?

I mean, damn…that is a lot of work.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

You have to make time to elegantly tell the world about your nightmares.  Those dreams that show all your grand ideals as a younger wrestler are deader than the muscles in your chest.  Step one is realizing your transgressions, but it seems you are at peace with sacrificing your family and your pride for a few World titles.

Sacrificing, how ridiculous.

Wrestlers at your and Eric Danes ages all seem to have one thing in common: you make yourselves martyrs, so you seem interesting.  Drugs, booze, failed marriages, injuries, surgeries, and wrestling past your prime are all attributes you share.

So, I ask you, Mr. Sektor: is your life better off without your family?

Is it so hard to take your daughter back now when she is walking around with a teenager?

Do you dream about that reunion or instead does it always end with her asking “who are you?”  It is sad.

I don’t understand you guys though.  If it is something worth fighting for then I believe you do what you can to make it a reality.  That does not make me a romantic.  Do not get confused me with Conor Fuse happily ripping apart a pack of IWO trading cards in hopes of getting his favorite wrestlers trading card.

I just don’t give a shit about laws or how someone else might feel if I get what I want.  This makes me The Miracle Man because only I can bring about The New World after society crumbles down because of the ignorant masses becoming larger and more violent.  Only a violent comeuppance towards that garbage can bring forth a land for the intelligent and you, John—have failed the application process.

I apologize, if I even had a physical application you would not even receive one you.  I don’t need people who have sacrificed themselves for some fleeting moment of glory.   That only means you never had the mental fortitude to do things the way you wanted to.  The World does not need anymore cowards pretending to be tough.

I have overcome an injury as you saw my crutches last week because that is the type of Miracle Man I am.  I shook it off and placed my foot down on the floor and willed myself to walk correctly.  No injury will keep me from beating you or competing for MY LSD title.  People just laugh and think I am faking this but that is because these jealous gnats are always trying to find something to use against me.  I am no faker, John and my record sure as hell isn’t fake.

Just because I cannot tell you exactly what my injury was does not make it any less real.  Why tell a competitor what to concentrate on, right?

Le shrug.

It does not matter, champ.  This is match up between two wrestlers, one is the past and one is the future and I plan on making you admit that.  I plan on taking what is left of your neck and hitting it repeatedly in hopes that you will be unable to move when I am done.

I then plan on doing the same to Jatt Starr.

StarrSek Industries: sexual harassing nurses in a Hospital near you.

That is your future, pal.

The New World waits for no man.

Steve Harrison, the only star who retired the only star, I can only pray to the wrestling Gods that you are next.

Gotta Love it.

Have a Miraculous Day, John, because Saturday is all about ME.

 

 

 

November 24, 2020

 

Miracle Enterprise is a family.

Yet here I was sitting in my pajamas in front of my 60 Inch Smart TV watching reruns of Law and Order SVU.  A bowl of Wheaties sat in front of me because I am an uncrowned CHAMPION.  I took a few quick spoonful’s into my mouth and exhaled in boredom after I was done chewing the bland cereal.  I had allowed Jack Marley to go visit our mutual friend for Thanksgiving because he is an annoyance and I figured I would miss him as much as Hughie Freeman misses marrying Rats to each other in his jail cell.  Rebecca had just left without saying anything but, that was to be expected.  She was not exactly a willing member of this amazing new family.  She would come around though, who can resist my charm, right?

Like I said a family.  I mean it is my experience of family anyway.  Never seeing them and not really caring if you do see them is my experience of course.  If everything comes together to make Miracle Enterprise a continuing success I do not care if I sit across from Jack and eat dry turkey while we make small talk about Oregon being his next vacation spot.  Not hard to figure out why people, don’t make me explain it.

Instead I put my spoon down and pushed the cereal away from me and took out the phone number I had received from Jack.  It was time to make a call, in hopes that a new family member could be added to ME.  What I knew about this man was mainly through my old trainer and Jack.  I had met him one time back in 2010 when he had been released from Jail and I had to pick him with Jack and take him back to the friendly compound of KING Inc.

William Morris was a man who began training in Martial Arts before he was ten years old.  It was something that ran in his family so at a young age he was dipping his toes in multiple different combat styles.  The problem with his family though was that he kept growing which went against the normal heights in the Morris family.  The old joke about the milk man being his dad was something said a few times in his house and his house was not exactly fall of hugs and compliments.  This was a training center for a family that lived one type of profession.

As William got older, he also trained in Greco Roman wrestling and was on the wrestling team at his school.  That did not last long though because at the age of sixteen he was pulled from school to go on a training tour of the world.  He went from Thailand to Japan to China to Brazil because his family did not need him knowing more then reading and writing because they were a family of assassins.

As stated, William Morris was tall and when he became twenty years old, he was 6’ 7” making assassinations a hard thing for him to do without being seen.  He was a monster, a muscle-bound young man who had knowledge of many fighting styles, so he was used in other ways.  The family worked for a syndicate and when syndicates had issues between each other they would each send a fighter for an MMA style fight surrounded by everyone.  This is where he shined because he would crush fighters who were used to fighting with weapons or killing in secret.  None of these killers could defeat him in an actual fight and many skulls were crushed and arms broken before other syndicates realized it was easier to negotiate then lose a member of their clan.

Then came the time he was finally given his first assignment.  He was given this assignment because it had to do with wrestling and William Morris had made it known he would be interested in going pro if all he could be was a bodyguard for the clan leaders.

It was 2004 and William Morris was signed up for When World Collide XI, a 128-person wrestling tournament.  His target was a former winner and a man who would be there to witness the next group of winners at the final battle royal between the final 16 competitors.   He would make it to the final sixteen and the night before the final he made his move against the former champion.  I do not know details but from what I am told, he thought he accomplished his goal, but it ended up being a set up and his target was not harmed.

The next night after he was tossed out of the ring by Mercury and took home third place he was beaming.  His first real exposure to professional wrestling and he placed third place but when he walked backstage, he was put in handcuffs and leaning against the wall with a shit eating grin was the man he thought he had killed.

A thumbs up from the man was the last thing he saw before he was tossed in a police car and it didn’t take long to convict William and a second-degree attempted murder charge had him jail.  It is said they only charged him as second degree because they were hoping at his age in jail he may spill the beans on who ordered him but then again he was put with all the other killers so maybe they just didn’t think he would make it long anyway.  I don’t really know but he didn’t go to trial, so it was probably what got a guilty plea.

I smiled knowing this man had survived jail with a target on his back and finally began dialing the number.

I put the phone on speaker as It rang a few times and as always, my patience was thin, and my foot began to tap like the phone ring was a popular song.  Finally, he picked up and my heart skipped a few beats, I was actually nervous to talk to someone with this reputation.

“Yea?”

“William Morris, I presume?” I asked with a slight break in my voice.  The Suplex Saint was nervous because this was the only person I wanted as my bodyguard.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, this is Steve Harrison we met about ten…”

The man interrupted me quickly in our relationship not something I normally enjoyed but I let him continue, “Yea…his protégé or whatever, right?”

I paused at that remark, I despised being called that mans protégé.  He trained me to wrestle because he wanted something from my dad not because he gave a shit about me.  “I will accept the whatever part of that, Mr. Morris.  I do not make moves because of what he says like someone people I know.”

“Hmph, I see.”

I took a deep breath and calmed myself down before I said something I might have regretted.  “I don’t want us to get off to a bad start here.  I know you are an expert in many fighting styles, and I need someone I can trust.”

He laughed.

“What is funny?”

He laughed some more.

My face became red in anger as we all know The Man of all the Miracles hates being disrespected.  “WHAT IS SO FUNNY!”

“Steve, I am laughing because you don’t seem to know everything about my relationship with him.”

I gritted my teeth because it would seem I was in the dark about some aspects about this man.  Something Jack did not tell me which of course made me angrier.  “I figured if the man you tried to kill helped you get out of jail and then hired you, there might be some things I don’t understand.”

“Yes, that.”

“And?”

“As you stated, I work for HIM, I cannot just come work with you without his approval…as grating as it is to me as well.”

“What does the great and mighty man have you doing, Will?”

“I am currently in Mexico, but it has nothing to do with him.”

My eyebrow raised and I began tapping my foot again as my mind raced to figure out why he was there.  “Um…hmmm…I don’t remember any business there unless he has finally sold out and invested in some vacation properties.”

“No, I am blackballed from wrestling in the states, so I end up all over the world wrestling in deathmatches.”

I grinned, finally something I believed I could take care of, “I need you to become the bodyguard you once were.  I am not asking for a tag team partner and even if that is an issue…High Octane Wrestling does not give a shit about unwritten rules.”

“If that is the case, I might be interested.  You have to understand, Steve…if HE needs me for anything, I still have to drop everything and do it.”

I shook my head, but I was not surprised by this revelation.  “I expected something like this, but it is not like he won’t have eyes on you anyway.  Sandy is everywhere.”

“That is because he has a building in every large city and thus, she has an office for whatever she is doing to make everything seem legitimate.”

I stood up and began pacing back and forth behind my couch.  I was getting an info dump from William and wasn’t sure if it meant to me or not yet.  I stopped and finally responded after a ten second pause, “That explains…some things.   Enough about these semantics for now because I feel we can talk all day and not accomplish anything.  I will cash app money for a plane ticket.  Meet me Chicago Friday night and we will go from there.”

“Ok I am willing to give this a shot; we will see what happens afterwards.”

CLICK

“Well fuck, that was quick,” I said to myself out loud, next I was going to start talking to paintings like I was Richard Nixon.

I walked over to my bar and poured myself a glass of Whistlepig.  It was time to drink the good stuff, yours truly the undefeated gem of HOW had finally gotten his bodyguard.  I took a long sip, “ahhh,” it was refreshing to say the least.  I walked back to the couch and sat down.  A large smile came to my face and I cheers’d The Miracle Enterprise apartment.  I was alone two days before Thanksgiving, but I had a lot to be thankful for because The Miracle Man was making moves and the next move would lead to my rightful GOLD.

 

End