I have a vague recollection of getting backstage after my match against Brian Hollywood. Most of what I speak about was caught on camera and what I believed to be thinking at that time.
I grabbed whoever the hell that was and picked up by his neck and tossed him to the side. “ROAR!”
He dropped to the ground, and I was watching it like it were a dream. Some would say nightmare, nonetheless I was enjoying harming the help and he could have been a producer, or he could have been the guy who gets us water when we get to the arena. It did not matter to me, I just stared down at him and believed myself to be a lion. I didn’t say it made any sense but after the bell rang and I wandered outside the ring and to the back all I could think about was fighting. I had not gotten my fill. This lion had not played with his food nearly long enough.
I kicked the door open of my locker room and strutted in and watched as the doc and Jack Marley jumped from where they were sitting and instinctively putting their hands up to defend themselves.
“ARE YOU HERE TO PUT ME TO SLEEP AGAIN?!?”
I went to grab the doctor, my powerful left hand shaking almost exactly how it was during last War Games when my memories came back. This though…it was different.
The doctor shook his head feverishly as he backed up all the way to the wall with nowhere to go. “No, Steve you just need to take a deep breath remember what we are trying to accomplish.”
“PFFTTT, I REMEMBER YOU.”
He put his hands up and turned his head from me as I continued to approach him. “I had left before it had come to that, we are business partners now. What you are experiencing right now is an after effect of our creation, I WARNED YOU NOT TO BE THE TEST SUBJECT,” he became louder as I got closer my hand shaking more and more, sweat dripping from my forehead as if I was walking through a volcano.
I froze and looked down at the table that was sitting between my meal and my hands.
I bent down and grabbed a bottle of water off the table and ripped the cap off like I would a defenseless rabbit if I were hungry. I tipped back and pounded the entire bottle without pausing.
Jack Marley gingerly walked over with a case of water and sat it down on the table in front of me.
“UMPH,” I nodded and grabbed another.
Jack nodded, “yea my bro, just calm down we are not your enemies,” the doctor nodded along with him.
I fell to a chair that was to the left, it bent backwards for a second but then straightened out before it tipped over with me with it and let out a big sigh, “uh.”
The doctor took a step forward, “we need to better understand the dosage.”
I rubbed my face and then looked down at my hands now drenched with my own sweat. I don’t think I had sweat that much in my match, but I needed a longer bout to get through the motivational serum. “I… WON!”
“Yes,” Jack said meekly back to me as I grabbed another bottle of water from him. That was number three and I grabbed it with as much gusto as a snake reaching out for a mouse.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the lights, “so is your list updated for side effects, Doc?”
The doc nodded his head, “I will go over that and the measurements we worked with later tonight. I think with a little more study we can have this be the last time this will have happened. I do implore you though that you might want to delay any more shots until we better understand what has transpired.”
I laughed and then held my head. It was like coming down from a high and my head ached. I stood up and walked slowly almost falling over and grabbed a towel from my gym bag. I wiped my face and then put it around my neck as I leaned against the wall. “Ugh, I understand.”
“Do you?” Jack and the doc said in unison.
I looked from one to the other, “when is my next match?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jack said as he took a joint out of his pocket without any irony of course.
I was beginning to yawn so arguing with the help was not something I wished for, “who am I facing, Jack? I see you know something.”
Jack sighed, “I heard uh…Arthur Pleasant.”
I grinned and walked back to the chair and sat down, “up the dosage, doc.”
The two of them both began to protest what I said but my eyes started to close, and everything became white noise and I passed out.
I will do what it takes even to the detriment of my own body.
Righting a Wrong.
Sunday, we witnessed another travesty that had a Best Family Members grubby hand all over it. How petty do you have to be to defeat a man but still go out of your way to stack the deck against him?
Well…we are talking about Mike Best not sure if it is petty or just a personality trait of his. It will take some time to right that wrong because giving full power to that man will not be something to easily counter.
But that is why when Steve Solex gave me an envelope of cash it also had a note and in that note was a reminder that to survive HOW you need back up and who better than two people, I already went to war with and Joe Bergman finally understanding that nothing is always black and white.
There is gray, a whole lot of it in HOW.
There is 97 Red, a shade I wish to see drip from The Boards scalp for their transgressions. This is because I despise the status quo and I detest the Best Family. A man I would do anything for in Lee Best used me for all I had and then when surgery sidelined me, he declined the insurance coverage and wished me the best in my recovery. I put it all on the line, my health, my sanity, and all I got in return was the ability to get drunk when The BA disbanded during my time at home.
Like I need someone’s blessing to get fucking drunk.
If you thought Clay Byrd burning your failing wrestling dojo to the ground was bad, then I love the irony of you paling around with Jace, Mike. That is the point though, trolling for laughs is definitely something The Board have in common with one another.
Do not get it twisted, The Highway Men are not going to play a song for you. We are going to travel from show to show and wreak havoc on everyone who gets in our way. If you thought Sunday was bad, I promise you that was just a little taste of what is to come if you cross us. It can be a member of The Board or that sniveling cheapskate Conor Fuse and his little simp David Noble because nobody is safe from their own personal slide to being miserable because of us.
Conor Fuse, you are the wrong that is going to be righted very soon. It doesn’t matter which one of us do it, but you will no longer get title defenses against Scott Stevens and Scott Stevens and Scott Stevens, and Scott Stevens. Clay has earned first go after being screwed and don’t give us the lie about not seeing what happened. You have already done whatever it takes to win the title before without hesitation so don’t think we will believe you caring about this being clean. If I don’t get that money, you owe me, you should look over your shoulder because instead I will make sure you no longer have any more successful title defenses. You are not Mario, Conor, we all know you changed into Wario ages ago and the sooner you stop this pretentious routine of yours the better.
I made a vow that those before me would crumble. Their bodies motionless before me as they succumb to what I warned them about. Violence for the sake of violence is just how the Wrestling business operates and in HOW you can lose an eye for just saying a forbidden word. I am happy Hollywood showed up even though his eyes told me he had wished to be anywhere else. The most dangerous thing you can do as a wrestler is show up unprepared. Therefore, Miracle Enterprise went all in on the miracle shot.
Do you think I am ashamed?
That I care that Brian Bare saw a used syringe?
I am not a junkie…well I don’t do heroin.
I have had a huge issue with motivating myself and getting up for the battle. I am tired all the time and I never sleep without some sort of sleeping aid. I have a lot of scars both physically and mentally and I am going to do all I can to achieve my goal and I don’t care what anyone else may think of me.
Some may say I was somewhat erratic inside the ring on Sunday. I was trying to get the best out of Brian Hollywood…everyone, heh. I hope my name revibrated throughout his head when he tried sleeping Sunday night.
Over and over and over and over.
I don’t take you for granted, Brian and when you have finally found yourself again, I will welcome you back to the ring and teach you once again who the fuck I am.
We come to a moment in my career that haunts me to this day. My ego took control and I stupidly played into wrestling a hardcore match with a man who ejaculates at the feel of pain.
Not, you Arthur… but ME.
I went into that match thinking nothing could stop me and I ended up being my own worst enemy.
I will right this wrong.
The Highway Men don’t forget, and we don’t forgive either.
“Well, another day, another dollar
After I’ve sang and hollered
Oh, it’s my way of living, and I can’t change a thing
Another town is drawing near
Oh, baby, I wish you were here
But the only way I can see you, darlin’, is in my dreams
It’s a highway song
You sing it on and on
On and on.” “Highway Song,” By Blackfoot.
“It speaks to me in a way that makes me want to throw my iPAD out of a car window.”
Les Miserable One.
The Suplex Savant.
The one and only Miracle Man leans back in the passenger side seat of his rental car. The Miracle Enterprise T-Shirt has seen better days and once again his beard was looking unkempt, and his head was looking unshaven again. Jack sits behind the wheel because Steve obviously like to play with his life while on the road. The two of them are parked outside of Steve Solex’s house in Springfield, USA. Solex had told Harrison to stop by before he started his journey to Memphis but as The Miracle Man stared out his window at the nicely cut lawn, he didn’t think the white picket fence and watching Stevens Jr run around the yard looking extremely uncoordinated but that really wasn’t surprising knowing where his genes come from was very appealing.
Jack looks over at Steve, a goofy smile on his face making it hard for Steve to not shake his head at the annoyance. “You gonna say hi?”
Harrison turns his head from Jack and as soon as he does, he sees Stevens Jr faceplant into a puddle caused from rain the past few days. He puts his hand over his mouth trying to stifle a laugh, but no amount of pressure could stop it from escaping to the air. Solex comes running out and picks the kids face out of the puddle because if it is something the Stevens have in common it is their uncommon ability to almost kill themselves. They multiple so rapidly because they have zero survivor skills. They are human dodos, ok?
The Man of a decent number of Miracles tries to duck down in his car seat as Steve Solex looks over at the car. “HEY, you mother lover, I see you!”
Harrison pears up from his seat, pushes his window down, and shrugs at Solex. Steve finally recognizes Harrison and shakes his finger at him with a look a father would give a child who has disappointed them. “Gotta go!” Steve yells.
“What…what?” Solex yells back at Steve.
Harrison attempts to put his window back up but Jack locks it and then waves at Solex, “HI STEVE,” he yells.
The mans man grimaces at the sight of Jack and puts his hands over the mud-covered eyes of Stevens Jr. The smartest Stevens ever responds, “are those your friends pappa Steve?”
Solex with his hands still on Jr’s eyes shakes his head, “Jack Marley is not a good role model, do not talk to him.”
Harrison smacks Jack upside the head and points for him to look ahead at the road. “Hey, um…I need to go see some ladies of the night.”
Solex moves is hands to the child’s ears, “really?”
“Try again, I am raising a nice man here.”
Harrison sighs, “I am going to go practice wrestling moves with a local…athlete that dances at a bar I want to drink at?”
Solex throws his arms in the air exasperated by Harrisons comments and Stevens Jr runs away mud all over him and runs into the front door and splats down on his large rear end. “Look what you did, Harrison?”
Harrison begins laughing and points at the fallen kid, “make sure the next time I come by that little twerp knows how to make a drink…a strong drink.”
Jack puts the peddle to the metal and begins driving off as Steve Solex stands there staring with an angry dad look on his face. Suddenly Clay Byrd sits up from the back of his truck that is parked in the driveway, he rubs is eyes apparently waking up from a nap. “Was that Harrison?”
Solex stares daggers at Clay, “I could have used your help with our future champion there,” Solex points at Stevens Jr who is still sitting on the porch holding his head from running into the door. The mud dripping down his face looking like he just escaped a swamp. “I am going to have to have the wife do laundry again,” he stares at the camera, “but hey…that’s what a woman is good for.”
Clay shrugs, “I reckon,” he lays back down in the back of his truck.
Scene fades with Harrison in the distance and Solex shaking his head at his teammates.
Righting a wrong continues.
Oh, this isn’t over champ.
I can call you that now without being sarcastic and yes it hurts what is left of my soul, but I don’t deny a reality even if it might suffocate all that is right in the world.
I will not call you a quitter either, Arthur.
It is hard to rationalize that now since you went out and not only defeated John Sektor but beat him in a submission match.
As someone who came very close to defeating him several times I cannot in good conscience (yea I have one somewhere) call you a quitter when you made Sektor do just that.
I have never claimed that Arthur Pleasant was bad competitor. It is a small list of wrestlers that have beaten me so to say otherwise would be insulting my own success. Of course, that does not mean I will ever respect the man. He goes out of his way to poke me because to him everything needs to be at some absurd cringe worthy level so he can get his laughs while rubbing barbwire down his chest.
I like to say this is business, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I would take a lot of pleasure in taking that LSD title from you in your first defense. I might even crack a true smile. I don’t detest you like I do The Board or Conor Fuse, but I certainly do not enjoy your presence. I know you would prefer ME to dislike you. You will trot out the usual lies about the great Steve Harrison because that is all you have.
I have a history of failing in these types of matches that have haunted me, Arthur. This is not just a match for me, this is another opportunity for me to brush off my past and place my knee through the back of your head. I am prone to overthink when I lose a match but that is because I try to learn from my mistakes. After I lost to you last time I went out and won the Tag Titles, so don’t you ever think you have some sort of mental advantage over me.
I have beaten Conor Fuse two times in tag matches.
I have retired freaking Dan Ryan even if I dropped the ball afterwards.
I suppose my own knee injury overshadowed a lot of what I did after War Games. I just cannot give up and walk away when something or someone stands in my way. I don’t want to accept that I cannot defeat someone and that title you are holding I have watched slip my grasp on two occasions.
Your antics are cute, but you are not self-aware at all. You love a fight, you love to receive and deliver pain, yet you seem to grade yourself off winning or losing. It has become apparent that maybe you are just a charade because it is easy to claim you don’t care then to be honest with yourself. We know you care and that isn’t necessarily an insult it is just a fact that shows as crazy as you act at the end of the day it is just that …an act.
No, but it is still a respectable attempt at trying to intimidate an opponent with your ‘weirdness.”
Badly placed ugly tattoos do not make you different.
I bet if I rubbed hard enough it would start coming off and underneath it would be your moms name with RIP under it.
It does not mean you haven’t put the work in. You trained hard to become a submission wrestler which shows ME you understand exactly what you are doing. Is it fun to play serial killer with JJR? How often do you ask him how human flesh tastes? Living your creepiest journal entries through JJR was amusing at first but now I just want to see you put in solitary confinement so I don’t have to listen to this will they or won’t they have a threesome with Max Kael’s skull.
Now I have trouble controlling myself inside the ring. It is not a personality or a show either, I am whatever the hell I am, Arthur.
I am not a monster like you wish to cosplay as.
I am an animal.
I have seen it and I am not certain I approve of it, but I am all out of options and it is surely not pleasant to realize you are your own test subject.
I will stalk you.
I will not stop.
I get five but I am not sure I even understand numbers when I am in that state, but I do comprehend a bell ringing and someone attempting to grab my arm. That is a hard NO, do not touch me.
What I am trying to get at, Arthur, is that this coming Sunday I will not only expect it, but I will accept it if you want this match to turn into a bloodbath. I have no chill inside the ring right now and I know you are the right competitor to make my experiment a success.
This Sunday will not be a wrestling match but a fight for survival and the only prize I want to leave with is that LSD title.
You will do it all like everyone else before you. Don’t think your current title makes you immune to what I bring because I have proven before that I am a goddamn plague for those who take me for granted.
No Miracles for those who doubt The Highway Men.
I NEED IT.
I am going to claim it.