What’s Important

What’s Important

Posted on December 10, 2020 at 2:34 pm by Steve Harrison



December 5th, 2020

Directly After Match.




The back door to The Best Arena flies open, Steve Harrison still in his wrestling gear sweat dripping from his body storms out of the arena.  William Morris follows slowly behind him.  He shuts the door quietly behind himself.  Steve begins stomping on the ground in anger following his first defeat in HOW to John Sektor.  Morris shakes his head in embarrassment as he watches Harrison walking circles in the parking lot muttering to himself and shaking his hands to the sky.

“Steve, is this your Hughie Freeman moment?  It is not very becoming…”

Steve turns fast towards Mr. Morris after hearing that comment and shakes his left index finger towards William, “you…you…you—ugh!”  Steve turns from William and begins muttering to himself again.

“Do you think this is becoming of a man who wishes to be great?  Let’s get in the car and get back to the hotel.  Have a drink and calm down, everything will come into focus,” soothing words from a Monster is not something Steve expected as he stopped moving again trying to understand where this guy came from.

“What car?”

“Jack drove from VA to Chicago…”

Steve interrupted William his face beat red, a vein in his forehead pounding, “NO-NO, NOT THAT FUCKING CAR!”

Unbeknownst to William Morris, Jack Marley was driving The Miracle Whip a car that constantly gave Steve Harrison nightmares.  Saturday was not coming up Steve Harrison you could say, and the temper tantrum began again.   Morris rolls his eyes and then looks to the left where some fans are seen walking outside around the arena obviously angry about watching Dan Ryan and Mike Best shit up their Main Event conversation.

“We should go,” Morris comments knowing fans and Harrison do not go together well by seeing the response they gave him tonight when he interrupted Lindsay Troy’s celebration.


Harrison turns to see a group of drunk fans taunting him.  Without even a word Steve begins moving directly towards the fans.  The fans surprised by this begin looking at each other and start moving the other direction.  William reaches his long arm out and grabs Steve by the shoulder and turns him around and looks down to Steve and stares him in the eyes.  Harrison’s eyes are darting back and forth as he continues having trouble controlling his emotions.  In an odd move Morris pats Steve on the shoulders showing surprisingly calmness and understanding for a trained assassin.

“Again, Steve, are those punks worth it?”

Steve groans and turns his back to William, “I guess not.”

Morris chuckles, “That is my job.”



Harrison turns back to see William cracking his knuckles with a large smile creeping across his fight weathered face.  Before anything can go any further Jack Marley pulls up in The Miracle Whip.



Jack honks the horn like the annoying pest he is.  William stops and looks back to see Jack rolling down the window waving at them like a goon.  The Miracle Man groans at the sight of the car and shakes his head as he slowly opens the back door and enters the car.  William follows suit and closes the door behind him.  Jack smiles at both them as he nods his head to “War Ensemble,” By Jedi Mind Tricks which is playing in the MW.  Harrison stares at Jack a frown the size of Jatt Starrs belly written across his face as any time he hears Jedi Mind Tricks now he just thinks of Lindsay Troy and nobody wants to do that unless they enjoy barren bitches that are quite literally dead inside.

“Turn…That…Off and make sure whatever you put on is also not fucking Vulpeck.”

Jack gulps and turns his head around and turns the radio off.  He looks ahead and pulls off, his window down as the smell of the kind bud is hard not to notice drifts out the window and into the night sky.

William looks over at Steve with a serious look on his face, his long hair scattered on his head.  He rubs his hands after not being to use them and softly says, “Who cares that you lost?”




Nobody Cares?

I have cared…probably too much.  It has become part of my psyche because every time I feel I might lose I think back to when I was a rookie and that has given me the boost I needed in HOW.  When I was young all I did was lose.  I am not just talking about wrestling…I am talking about life in general.  In HOSTILITY I was labelled The Failure.

I don’t mean by fellow wrestlers either.

I mean when I was announced down to the ring it was as “The Failure” Steve Harrison.  I would trip and fall, I would knock myself out on a ring post, my ring shorts would fall off, and I would get rolled up for the big L.  It was a running joke on how I would lose that week.  It is just who I had become through only receiving attention when I did something stupid as a kid.

I became a clown.

A clown with a run-down apartment full of stray animals I would pick up off the street.  That is who I was and when I think back at it, I get cold sweats.  After the accident and I became the man you see today I became obsessed with winning.  I never quite put it together though and I was always coming up short in the big matches I had.  I would watch as people passed me, and I became bitter. 


I am still bitter.

I NEED to win.

I MUST win.

It is what I have built myself to be.  Failure cannot be an option if I am to succeed in my plans for this world.  I must constantly prove myself.  When I fail, I just think about the past and my emotions that I didn’t think I had any longer explode like a child not getting a candy bar at the store.

Not a good look?

I guess not.

Then again, I don’t really give a shit what fans think or what other wrestlers say about me.  This is about me and I am looking forward to starting another streak because if I don’t, I believe I will be the failure again. 

That is my fear

That is my weakness.




“Uh oh,” is all you hear from Jack Marley.  He continues to stare ahead as he drives wanting nothing to do with this conversation.

Steve Harrison slowly moves his head to look at William.  His face contorted completely confused at what he just heard William say to him.  “WHO CARES?”

William looks on at Harrison no real emotion showing on his face.  He moves his hair from his eyes and calmly responds “What did you lose by losing?”

The Suplex Saint’s mouth opens wide continually confused about what’s going on.  He shuts his mouth but just stares ahead pausing as he attempts to think of a response.  “Um…everything?”

Morris laughs loudly at that response.  This in turn has Jack chuckling softly to himself as he pretends to understand what is going on.  He looks in the mirror and sees Steve staring at him and he quickly shuts up.  “All you did was lose a wrestling match, Steve.  It is time for you put things in perspective.”

Harrison groans loudly, “ok, sensei,” he says sarcastically.

Will continues as he ignores Harrisons sarcasm, something most people cannot ignore.  “You need to look after yourself.  You have a match at ICONIC for the LSD Title, that is far more important than some throw away match with a guy facing High Flyer.  Tapping out is how you protect yourself to fight later.”

“Yea, I guess so,” Harrison responds as he looks away from Morris.  He stares outside the car, “it is just not how I have built myself the past ten years.”

“Heh, you have made a mistake.  You cannot make an undefeated streak become part of your personality.  When you lose and you HAVE, you become a shell of yourself.  Is that what you want?  Aren’t you the guy who always mentions how wrestling is just a means to an end?”

Steve turns back to Morris and nods, “It is…but…”



Morris shrugs, “just like HIM you have a huge ego.  Will you help close a wrestling federation to prove you were screwed next?”

Steve suddenly starts laughing and shakes his head, “be careful what you say, he does still employ you, right?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.  What matters is what you are going to do now.  Are you going to walk around a broken boring wrestler because of one loss or are you going to use it to motivate you?”




Whoever thought a 6’ 7” monster could be so understanding.  It is almost scary how calm he is, but it isn’t a lie is it?

What am I, if I am not undefeated?

I am Steve Harrison.

I am the fucking Miracle Man.

I am still the hottest new wrestler HOW has seen since it reopened. 

I am going to channel my disappointment into reckless actions inside a wrestling ring to finally claim MY LSD Title. 

So, get it over with now, guys.

Jatt Starr can get a laugh with John Sektor about me tapping out.  He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.  Yea, I am calling you Jattanta Claus, do yourself a favor and drink skim milk this Christmas and skip the cookies.

So, yea—I tapped.

‘Hahaha,’ don’t laugh too hard LT your stomach cannot handle the vibrations.  What is funny, is you being dragged away barely able to put that shriveled witch like Middle Finger up to show your love for me after William tossed you around like the piece of garbage you are. 

Hughie Freeman can come out from his cry palace now.  That is just what it is, because he is the only one who wouldn’t laugh about my first loss because his dream was to be the one to give it to me.  Now what does he have?  An unhealthy relationship with his father (and I know a thing or two about those) and ‘Sweet Caroline,” on repeat.  I can just imagine that pikey fuck emerging from his man cave with blood and feces caked to his face.  The room full of used tissues, dead rats, and all the empty monster energy cans you could imagine with Neil Diamond’s voice singing slowly as the record player slowly dies like Hughie Freemans wrestling career. 

Hush little Pikey don’t say a word, Lindsay Troy is going to buy you…absolutely nothing you fuck stick she took your title.   What to do?  What to do? 



I don’t even know if you are worth beating again. 

Honestly it is like beating a dead horse at this point.  I am not getting any satisfaction out of kicking you in the shin any longer because you don’t hold what is MINE.  That she-devil does, the supposed most popular wrestler in the world. 

Not best wrestler.


No, let’s not go to that place now.

You were doing so well too, Hughie.  You had defeated Scottywood and been afforded your freedom while keeping MY title.  It was looking even better for you when you proved you could game when you defeated Conor Fuse.  I was impressed with your growth and realized you were worth one last chance against me.  Then your dad came back in the picture and made YOU seem reasonable.  That isn’t a compliment because your dad is an annoying twat with horrible taste in music, and it bled into how you acted.

Now you were a proud fighting champion who fought to have new theme music.   That is the equivalent to Cookie Monster screaming about oranges.  They both make no sense and gives the impression of unimportant nonsense.  You have become unimportant nonsense. 

Is this what you thought your career be like after you left Alcatraz?

Such an incredible high followed by an extremely low moment with withdrawal symptoms as you squirm around naked without the LSD title.  Just a scum bag who cannot handle failure.  I can understand that but look at me, Hughie…I am rising above that nonsense because ICONIC is more important to me than anything else right now.

Wrestling is important? 





Steve rubs his beard as he thinks about the motivation it will take to overcome the odds at ICONIC.  “Wouldn’t that make me a hypocrite?”

Morris shrugs his large shoulders, “why?”

“I constantly talk about wrestling not mattering.  That is just a means to an end, as you said yourself.  Now you are telling me to make the actual wrestling part…important?”

“Call it washing dishes.  Call it playing checkers.  Call it selling your first bottle of Miracle Holy Water.  Call it your first rally for the New World.”

Steve nods to William as he begins to understand what is being said to him.  “It doesn’t matter what it is, if it is important, I have to put the work in.  I must wash the stink of loss off me and give Enlightenment to those who stand in my way.  It is the only way for all to be saved by It’s a Harracle.”

The large bodyguard looking a tad uncomfortable now sitting in the back seat of The Miracle Whip with Steve nods slowly.  “Everything is important but if something threatens to knock you off your path you learn from it…you don’t hide from it.”

“What made you so all knowing, huh?”

Morris sighs, “I read a lot in jail.”

The car went silent.  This was not a surprise to Jack because any conversation about jail he has heard the past ten years with Morris has been unpleasant.  Steve not one for tact responds, “between stabbings huh?”


The Man who sweats Miracles nods his head in agreement, “always need a break.”

Jack pulls the car over and turns to look at both William and Steve, in his right hand is a blunt, his face a mess of smiles.  “Someone say…baked!?!?!”

“Seriously?” Both William and Steve say at the same time.

“Er…kidding…yea kidding,” Jack turns his head and begins driving again as both people in the back, stare holes through the back of his skull.

“Regardless if you lose or if you win you cannot let that change your end game.  Is this making sense, Steve or are you still stuck in the past?” Morris says as he attempts to stretch his leg.  This fails though as this car does not have a big backseat and he probably should have sat up front.

Steve grunts not liking the way William called him out, “I get it.  Are we done with talk with crazy bodyguard or is this an hour-long show?”

“We are here!” Jack yells as he pulls into the Hotel.

“I guess we are done for today, Steve,” William says with a smirk on his face obviously trying to poke at Steve’s emotions.

Miracles on every goddamn street rolls his eyes, “I think I need to give you a job.”





StarrSek Industries: We lost our Kids, let us help you lose yours as well.

StarrSek Industries: We make stuff, maybe?  We definitely don’t sell anything though.

StarrSek Industries: We destroyed the tag division.

StarrSek Industries: We are cheap at the bar but expensive to insure.

Jatt, I want to apologize to you.  On Saturday my intent was not to cut off your mic when I came out.  My intent was to say something important and not have to listen to you list all the times your uncle touched you.  I know, I know, he was not really your uncle, but he had you call him that when he was checking you for hernias.  It explains a lot and now we can fully understand the lesbian outfits you wear when you go drinking with Sektor.

I had no issue with you, Mr. Starr.  I take opportunities as they come and who better to talk about a title match then ME.  I am not sure if is your age or all the concussions you have had during your career but if I were to just have people listen to you without seeing you I am certain they would believe you to be a college dropout bro at age 19.  That is the joke, Jatt.  You are a smarmy immature turd that doesn’t fully grasp the greatness that Miracle Enterprise truly is.

Number 1: Country Fried Steak.

Number 2: Meatloaf.

Number 3: Southern Fried Chicken.

I mean that list sounds scrumptious, Jatt but we really didn’t need to hear it during Refueled.  If one day I hear the word salad or apple from your mouth I will probably have to pinch myself to see if I am dreaming.  I am scared for you.  I witnessed you work out and it looked like a stroke waiting to happen.  Your sweat was literally 100% gravy and wine coolers from that big-time party you had with high school students. 

I am not saying you molested children, but Gilda ran away for a reason.

Repressed memories and all that, right?

I wish I had some Miracle Milk left because you are promoting it quite well for me.  Legally speaking I have nothing to do with the Milk anymore.  You know this dead guy Norm created it and it was all his idea.  I am ashamed about the ingredients in the Milk.



Legally speaking…that is.

Buy the stinking pen, Jatt.

The next time I see you harass one of my employees I will put a restraining order on you and if that doesn’t work, I will have William Morris work there.  Is that what you want?  Are those ugly plush dolls that important to you that you will keep this charade of a business going?  Let’s just call it what it is: A Go Bots equivalent to Miracle Enterprise.

I am happy my success has inspired you but please stop trying to be a fatter and dumber version of me.  There are no Miracles at StarrSek Industries just dusty bins, STDs, empty Zima’s, and used needles.

Good luck, with…whatever the fuck you are doing.

I can tell you one thing you are not doing and that is winning the LSD Title.  You can get advice from Sektor all you want but I will be a completely different person at ICONIC.  I haven’t been pinned yet and that is not going to change against a fat fuck who only makes money by going to the beach and selling shade. 

That is a StarrSek guarantee.

But look it all comes down to who currently holds the LSD title.  Our favorite survivor from the newest SAW movie, Lindsay Troy. 

Oh yay.

Sarcasm doesn’t even have the energy to pretend to be impressed here.

I will not deny that for the past six months I have had a habit of tossing a random insult her way.  She should take this as a compliment because I wasted my energy thinking of something funny to say about her and I delivered.  I am sure I was crude or boring to her but sometimes you have to toss some firecrackers at someone everyone knows to get some cred.

Yep, the most popular wrestler who as Jatt has stated gets opportunity after opportunity for title shots and finally came through.

Second try Troy.

New nickname for you, I strongly support you using it.

The LSD title tried with all its might to stay away from your wrinkled grasp but you, being the witch you are, put a sleep spell on Hughie and took the belt.

I am sure this title reign will go just as well as your time with the Tag Titles. 


The pressure on you has just become a lot larger, mom.  You already have a target on your crooked back by holding MY title but now people have had the audacity to claim you are a draw.  The target is so big Mike Best shooting blanks after a cocaine binge can hit a bullseye. 

A draw?

Maybe if we are talking crudely drawn Sticker Figures, but money? 

Shit, you probably had to rob Zeb Martins prone drugged out body when you gave him a ride home to pay your rent this month. 

The last time LT was a DRAW was when Wrestler A was so bored, he ended up DRAWING on her back while giving her back shots.  The name really doesn’t matter, just find any down and out wrestler in any fed she has been in and she has probably shown up after midnight at their door for a training session.  The real training is how NOT to get an STD from her dingy whore hole. 

The last time money was made with LT on the top of the card was when Dan Ryan bought all the empty tickets at an Empire show.  That’s the rub, right?  Dan Ryan, who is actually your family, got so sick of you he tried to murder you in a wrestling match.  What does that say about you?  Maybe your arrogance and bed hopping has finally made Dan ashamed of being associated with you.  You cannot say sass without also calling you an ass.

People can have their unwarranted opinions and so can I.  Just because I am certain mine are correct doesn’t stop the uneducated masses of blowing smoke up your asshole about how great you are.  Nah, LT, you are one more stomach injury away from having a coloscopy bag. 

This all just makes my future defeat of you much more gratifying.  As I mentioned earlier you are popular, but you are not the best wrestler.  You can win a match here and there but if memory serves me right you placed worse than Perfection and MJF at War Games. 

Maybe it is easier to say you were the first knocked out, but I really wanted to hit home the wrestlers who placed better then you.  A Group of Death embarrassment.  Now we are at another PPV and the only recent PPV match you can brag about is No Remorse when you defeated Eric Dane.

You know–the guy who quit when he came up against me.

What I am getting at, is that you come up real small in big matches.  I can understand this because ten years ago in JUST Wrestling I choked three times in world title contender matches.  Every fucking tour I lost that match.  But my unfortunate choke jobs are in the past, yours happen every month.

Please don’t have your come back be: ‘BUT HUGHIE.”

I beat him too, glad we have some things in common, but it didn’t take me two tries.

Now I finally get my match with you, Troy.  It is something I figured would never happen when I left the business ten years ago.  I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would face someone who once impressed me.




These days I am not sure if you even think you are as good as your reputation.  It is difficult for humans to be honest about themselves, I am sure it is the same for you.  Every time you get a late-night text from Mike Best, in the back of your mind you want it to be about him wanting you when it is about moving a fucking couch.


A Fucking couch.

That is when you sit with your head in your hands and really do some soul searching.  What the hell has become of you?  Nobody is impressed now.  I am impressed you still have the arrogance to think we give a shit about you still.  I am talking the universal WE, as in wrestlers who care more about being successful then sucking up to a fed hopping Trollop.

This is about ME, mom.  I am happy to finally face you, but I am not nervous about it any longer.  Now I see a wrestler who has one foot at AARP and one foot stuck in her own mouth unable to back up all her bullshit.

This is going to be a belated birthday gift to myself, please polish the LSD title for me.

Future LSD Champion is not a Miracle…it’s just inevitable.