Wasted Talent

Wasted Talent

Posted on July 2, 2020 at 5:32 pm by Jesse Kendrix

Sat behind a large desk in a well lit office sits a rather refined looking individual, graying hair, specs and adorned in a white lab coat. He takes a look at his wrist watch as the clock on the wall behind him ticks along marking the awkward silence that stands between himself and the much younger pretty blonde sitting on the opposite side of the desk nervously fidgeting her foot on the ground. She in turn looks at the clock before throwing a nervous smile the Dr’s way.

Pretty Nervous Blonde Lady: He’ll be here any minute I’m sure.

The Doctor reassuringly smiles back at her.

Doctor: Lovely weather to reveal the good news isn’t it.

She glances out the window which brightens up the room beautifully which enhances the hope and excitement etched across her face. Before she can respond the large wooden door to the office swings wildly open to reveal none other than Jesse Fredericks Kendrix…well at least one side of him, his foot protruding into the room, the other side is hidden behind the door.

Kendrix: C’mon little one. Don’t be shy now. Who’s daddy’s favourite boy?

Jesse looks over to both the Doctor and Chastity, not with the usual shit eating grin of his, but with a different glint in his eyes. The look of pride. He then makes it all the way into the office to reveal one half of the High Octane Wrestling Tag Team titles draped over his shoulder, showing it off to his small audience of two before dropping his ear towards the plate of the belt.

Kendrix: What’s that my boy? It smells like old man in here? 

Jesse gives the room a sniff before nodding back at the title.

Kendrix: You know what? It DOES smell like old man in here. 

The Doctor dismisses the insult thrown his way and gestures for Jesse to sit beside the Pretty Nervous Blonde Lady. Jesse obliges but his eyes wonder around the room.

Kendrix: I’m confused, there’s no pole in here for you to swing around, Chastity. 

Chastity rolls her eyes as Kendrix gives her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Kendrix: C’mon sweetheart I’m just messing with you. So I’m here, let’s get this over and done with. Doc, test me for uncontrollable falling down syndrome. She’s got it, which explains why she’s always on her back. This is the last bloody thing I need right now, especially with JFK Junior here. You know I love him with all my heart but he can be a right handful. Especially when he gets all sweaty, it’s super hot out there today.

He spits on the belt and polishes it with his closed fist. At that moment, Chastity places her hand delicately upon Jesse’s fist to finally focus his attention on her.

Chastity: Jesse, my love…

Kendrix quickly looks at the Doctor and rolls his eyes before looking back at his on off on again significant strippee with a forced smile.

Chastity: I don’t have uncontrollable falling down syndrome, neither do you…it’s a fake disease…I just needed to get you here in front of the Doctor so he can provide you with proof that I am actually pregnant and carrying your son. 

Jesse’s eyes widen.

Kendrix: A ruse! Chastity, how could you?

Chastity: I told you I was pregnant over a month ago and you just laughed. Each time I bring it up you just laugh at me.

Kendrix: I was laughing with you! I thought you were joking! Doc?

The pause seems like a millenia, the Doctor’s lips are moving, it’s just barely audible but it feels as if everything right there and then in that moment is moving in slow motion. That moment when you find out from an actual professional doctor and not your significant strippee other you don’t respect…that you’re gonna be a father.

Click Click Click!

The flicks of Chastity’s fingers snap Jesse out of the moment and bring him back into the real world. He turns to Chastity and then the doctor. There’s the shit eating grin.

Kendrix: Good one Chastity, you almost had me there. This guy’s not even a real Doctor is he? He’s one of your regular punters ain’t he?

Chastity defensively shakes her head.

Kendrix: C’mon Doc, at least show me your credentials.

The doc points back behind his head, the wall filled with many a credential.

Chastity: Jesse we’re in a Hospital. He’s a real doctor, we’re having a baby!

The excitement is too much to bear for Chastity as she throws her arms around her reluctant partner who has finally realised this is oh so very real. He tries to fend her off bu her grip is surprisingly strong. He turns his head to the Doctor.

Kendrix: But, but…are you sure it’s like…a human baby, doc? Are you sure it’s not one of those Alien ones like the ones in…Alien? The ones that rip through the host’s body and go on to live happy peaceful lives?

The Doctor looks at his wristwatch again, he’s a busy man. He simply shakes his head at the ridiculous question. Unfortunately for him he has never met Jesse Frederiks Kendrix before. 

Kendrix: And when the mother dies like this does that mean I have to pay for the funeral? So many things to do, so little time? Ugh!

He removes Chastity’s arms from his body and gets up from his chair in a panic, cradling JFK Junior in both arms as if he was putting him to sleep. 

Kendrix: Shush!

Whispering he continues.

Kendrix: Look, Chastity…I know you’ve always wanted a child. I get the importance of providing a stable home to a child and raising a little minny you, but I don’t believe in having more than one child. As you can see, I already have a child…

He nods his head toward the Tag Title which seems to have dozed off to sleep such is the angle of the belt plate slowly dropping onto Jesse’s manly man shoulder.

Kendrix: So unfortunately, this new baby thing isn’t going to work for me…I just can’t afford to pay for two kids. I don’t get paid enough. In fact, most of my cash has gone into a savings account for JFK Junior’s graduation day.

Chastity: Oh no you don’t mister! You’re one of the highest paid wrestlers in your company.

Kendrix: Yeah but those frappes and stripee nights out don’t pay for themselves. Plus the responsibility of being one half of the Greatest Ever Tag Team Champions is huge…I would have very little time to help you out sweet cheeks. You’d be all on your own. Us wrestlers travel all over the World, remember?

Chastity: Don’t you always wrestle in Chicago.

Kendrix: NO! I literally just went to war in Normandy! And whenever I defend JFK Junior, I’m going to war every single time. I will die for my already born child. Do you want to worry about me dying all the time, Chastity? Huh? Cos that’s what you’ll be doing with our bastard child, especially with Dan Ryan proclainimng he’s literally going to murder his colleagues every week on live TV. It’s amazing how he hasn’t been fired yet for gross misconduct. You shouldn’t bring a child into the world knowing that his father could die once every two weeks.

Doctor: I think you two have a lot to talk about and I have many more patients to see tod…

Suddenly, JFK Junior’s plate face turns to face the Doctor, much to JFK’s ire.

Kendrix: YOU WOKE HIM UP! Great, now he’s gonna need entertaining for the rest of the day. C’mon JFK junior, let’s go to see step mummy’s place of work. 

As Jessie makes his way out of the office, a furious looking Chastity apologises to the Doctor and storms out right after JFK.

Chastity: JESSIE!


Inside the Hollywood Bruv, Manly Man apartment, Jesse stands, Tag Team title resting over his shoulder, before a 24K HOW backdrop. The makeshift studio is equipped and ready to pick up every word as the camera rolls. Holding his hands out flat in front of the lens, he presents the scene

Jesse Fredericks Kendrix. The Future of the business. That was the phrase I threw around when I first got into this business only 5 years ago. It was an easy sell to promote, done before by so many in the same shoes when they first stepped into the squared circle on live television. 

A knowing glance

Well maybe they didn’t do it quite as cocky and arrogantly as yours truly. But that was just me. I knew I had raw ability but that alone was never going to be enough to get me to the top as quickly as possible. 

Jesse holds his hands by his mouth tipping his fingers atop of his thumbs.

So I gave it all that. The gift of the gab and it wasn’t long before others bought into my own hype. On Saturday night, at Refuelled 31…JFK ties up with a man who has the potential to reach the highest of heights in this game in a short space of time much like I did. Zeb Martin, you should be looking no further at what you should be doing in this game than Jesse Fredericks Kendrix. After all, I am the standard bearer for any young talent wanting to go to the very top of the business.

Proudly holding his hands out wide by his side he presents himself to his viewers.

You’ve got the talent, you’ve proved you have it in you. You’ve tasted success in High Octane Wrestling and that is no mean feat at all in the land of the sharks. But your talent is raw…it just needs to be nurtured and molded…much like mine was by a Dynasty of wrestling talent, champions…as soon as I stepped into this business. La Flama Blanca, Sean Jackson and Claude Baptiste Ranier. But unlike the potential I showed from the start, you and me both know that you’re here simply as a HOW pawn to get higher ratings in fucking hickville America.

He scrunches his top lip toward his nostrils at the very thought of the deep south. Before shaking it off and raising a brow.

Huh, I guess that’s what people thought of the Bruvs, right? We were hired for ratings! Not in hicksville of course, but worldwide ones. Yet look at the impact we’ve made. The Tag Division is thriving. The division we walked into was pitiful compared to the amount of teams that followed us into HOW. Why? Because the best talent in the game attracts more talent. The very best want to compete and learn against the very best. The most you’ve contributed here is funny egg splat moments, reminding people why fishing sucks and you can just buy a pre caught fish from the local supermarket. 

A roll of the eyes dismisses the very thought of such honest and patient work.

But rather than surround yourself with winners you choose to surround yourself with hasbeens and never have beens. Jokes like Bobby Dean who are only here because he’s over with the fans? Why? because they think he’s funny. 

Queue mocking silent doubling over hands on stomach laughter.

Is that what you want to be Zeb? You have so much potential. That’s why HOW wrestling signed you up. This career is not a long one, bruv. The fact you’ve been here a few months is not an excuse. You’ve got to be a shark in this game from the off set or you’ll get eaten alive. You need to learn from your mistakes in order to progress. But instead, what do you do? You stay with your eGG buddies. News flash, bruv…they are gonna be the ones who end your career early. Not the graft, not the injuries, the addictions, the fame. Your friends.

He clasps his hands together to seal his point.

Let’s make no mistake here, you idolize these guys. You genuinely think they are the bees knees. Just last week on commentary watching Cancer in the ring…you imitated Bobby Dean. No opinion, no drive, no character from yourself. You just copied everything he said. Hell, worryingly he’s the man out of the other three giving you life as well as business advice. Beautiful Bobby Dean, the biggest waste of space of them all, figuratively and physically speaking. You’re actually doing the whole aww gee wiz shuck spiel just like him. You’re just here to have a good time and get over with them. 

A round of feigned applauds follows

And boy are you guys over. You were literally given your chance at HOW gold at War Games. You brought it, Zeb. I’ll give you that, you’re a tough cookie to crack, pardon the stupid pun you and your buddies inadvertantly managed to get us all uninentially spouting every week due to the ridiculous obsession with fucking eggs. Don’t get me wrong, I’m impressed that your fat bastard of a partner didn’t crack the egg in his shorts during war games, that’s unreal useless skills. It just goes to show how much work you put in while he was taking a break and waiting on the right moment to entertain the folks watching on TV just to get the cheapest of reactions from them. 

He shrugs and begins to pace the stage looking away from the camera, alone displaying his thoughts.

Where did it get you? If you and your buddies spent less time concerning yourselves with your stupid raw egg gimmick to compensate for your lack of ambition and drive to be the absolute best in this game and focussed on the whole fucking reason we should all be in HOW for, then maybe you would have come closer to beating the Hollywood Bruvs…I wouldn’t count on that though.

Coming to a stop at the center of the stage he focuses on the lens once more.

What I do count on is that in two days time you get your chance for retribution against one half of the greatest damn tag team in the world today. Everywhere we’ve been we have dominated our tag division. And now here, in the greatest wrestling promotion on the face of this earth, we are at the top once again and mark my words, absolutely nobody is taking our babies away from us.

Twice he pats the plate of the Tag Team title draped over his shoulder.

But what’s that? This isn’t a tag team match. It’s a singles match! That’s different, right? Shit! OH NOOOOO, WHATEVER WILL JFK DO? No Mikey Unlikely, no Hollywood Bruvs. Kendrix will be missing his brother, he’s all alone with nobody to support him. Finally this may be Zeb Martin’s saving grace. 

A wag of the finger tells a different story.

Let me tell you something. The Hollywood Bruvs are the greatest tag team in the world because we can do something that you eGG bandits do half of. We entertain the world AND we get the job done while doing it. On my own though…I have absolutely no intention of entertaining anyone. On my own I get the job done…and I get it done good.

Jesse holds two fingers out in front of the lens and points them back towards his own eyes.

You’re looking at the man who, on his own, likes to win, hurt and retire people. You’re looking at a former Prodigy Champion, a former UTA and DEFIANCE Champion. You’re looking at  the man who can hang with monsters of this game, guys who are out and out brawlers like Jason Natas, take his belt, retire him and then bin his DOC title and set it on fire because it meant nothing to me.

There’s that shit eating grin accompanied by the palm of his hand held out flat in front of him.

All this in the space of 5 years. I’ve won and continue to win more titles in this business in 5 years than most do in their entire careers. You know why, Zeb? Because I am a fucking horrible cunt. I have to be because it’s the fastest and most efficient way to get to the top. People like you will work hard on pleasing their fans and trying their darn best. But when people like you look back at their careers, in the cold light of day, you all come to the realisation of what you are.

He lets that linger for a moment.

Wasted talent. You will waste it, Zeb because you simply don’t care or want it badly enough. That’s why you surround yourself with failures who just want to have fun in a business which is simply your second or third choice.

Holding three fingers up he then jabs his thumb against his chest

I live and breathe for success. Every defeat I suffer pisses the hell out of me and I do everything in my power to learn and get better. The Bruvs lost to Farthington and Mike Best. Two of the greatest wrestlers of all time. If that was you or your buddies it would have been oh jeez well you know we gave it our best shot and gave them a run for their money. 

Jesse’s face reddens, he bites his lip in an attempt to regain his composure.

I don’t give a fuck if we pushed those two all the way. At the end of the day I got duped and that defeat hurt like hell, not just like any other, worse than you can imagine because I want to be the very best. Not to show the world, the fans, that I’m the best but simply for myself. The result? Next show, what happens? High Octane Wrestling Tag Team Champion. 

He grabs the belt from his shoulder and defiantly holds it out in front of the lens.

Each man chooses his path, Zeb. You’ve chosen yours and I’ve chosen mine. Two completely different routes in this business. And on Saturday at Refueled 31, I’m going to prove not to you or to the world…but to myself…that you have chosen the wrong one.