Post by The Gangsta on Jun 27, 2015 22:13:43 GMT -5
Ante Whitner RP
Our Father
It’s been weeks since I’ve last seen Kyzer or Donnie. My body is starved. My mohawk is grown out and my beard is reaching the middle of my neck. I haven’t eaten in days. The lack of hydration causes my skin to dry out and peel off. Desperate for food, I bite off the dead skin and eat it. I chew on the soft touch of the skin that was once mine. I haven’t showered in days either. I reek of defeat. I’m the epitome of loss. I ignored Ben’s calls. I haven’t done anything, but sit inside of my apartment and contemplate my future. I haven’t won a match since February.
I stared at the wall for hours, maybe even days. I always looked at that one picture with my National Title victory at Men and Monsters back in November. I was happy back then. It was before any sh*t had stirred up with Donnie and the KoKaine Konspiracy. It was before any sh*t with Mike too. I had looked up to those two men as my father once upon a time. Growing up with the two assh*les in my life, I really didn’t have a fatherly figure until the very end. The end where my father passed on and Charlie was far away from us.
My father’s death molded me into the man I was in that picture. It was the dawning of a new chapter in my life. I was a young man bound for greatness. Now, I’m bound for anorexia and sleep deprivation.
I remember the last few days I had with my father. He had shown the side of him that I never saw in him before. It reminded me of the happier times we shared with mom so many years ago. As children, Charlie and I were innocent, happily growing up in the suburbs of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It was time where we had my grandfather and grandmother sharing meals with us everyday. It all came to an end when my mother got into that car one evening. It was then that my father had bailed on paying the bills and we moved to a disgusting house in Yonkers. It was like Anakin Skywalker had turned to the dark side and had become Darth Vader.
----------------
March 25, 2010
Yonkers City Hospital
It was only a few months after Frankie’s paralysis. Charlie was long gone and I was left to take care of my father and Frankie. My father was diagnosed with liver cancer a year earlier. He drank all of his problems away and it all just caught up to him. It was as if my father was serving a life sentence for the crimes he committed when I was a child. All of the alcohol. All of the abuse.
My father’s cancer went into remission a few months ago. However, as I was starting to make a name for myself around town as a feared wrestler, his cancer returned. This time, his cancer became terminal and his chance to live was slim to none. I had to spend every last minute with him. After all, he may have been an assh*le for all of my life, but he was still my father. He was the man that tried to raise me after my mother died. He may not have done a good job, but he still taught me lessons that I needed to keep in mind for the rest of my life.
I was waiting in the opposite room in order to be called in. I knew this was goodbye. The atmosphere was surreal. As I was waiting to be called in, I stared at this one picture on the wall across from me. It was a picture of Floyd Patterson, a Yonkers native, when he won the WBC Heavyweight Champion in 1956. Patterson signed the picture before his death a few years ago. He fought his way to the top and in the end, he rightfully earned the prestigious title.
The nurse finally called me in and I entered the room. There was no flowers and no visitors. I was the only one who had visited him for the past few months. He smiled at the sight of my presence.
The nurse, who looked like Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, left the room with an annoyed look on her face.
Ante Sr: Hey Ante.
Ante: Hey dad.
I pulled my chair closer to him and he grabbed my hand.
Ante Sr: This it it. This is my last day.
Little tears welled up in my eyes.
Ante: I know dad.
My father started smiling again as he looked me in the eyes. He saw the abuse he had cause in my bright blue eyes.
Ante Sr: I’m sorry Ante. I failed you and your brother.
Ante: It’s okay dad. Look at where I am now.
I held up the wrestling magazine I had brought for him. I was on the front cover with a smug look on my face and a title belt around my shoulder.
Ante Sr: You’re the king now, aren’t you?
We both laughed a little. His change of attitude came with the cancer he was diagnosed with. It was a two for one deal.
Ante: Yeah, dad. I guess I am.
Ante Sr: Good, never forget that. You’re a Whitner, Ante. We were forged from the Croatian greats.
My family is Croatian. My great-grandparents immigrated to America from Croatia during World War II. I was only half-Croatian, due to my mother’s side mainly comprising of Italians. But, the Whitner name was synonymous with Croatian history, with many war heroes having a surname similar to Whitner.
Ante: Yeah.
Ante Sr: Why so gloomy Ante? Is it because I won’t be here tomorrow?
Ante: Kind of. I just know I’m gonna make a name for myself out there and the only person that will know it is Frankie.
Ante Sr: I understand, but I will know from this very moment that you will be a better man than I ever was.
Ante: Don’t say that, you’re my father. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I am now.
I notice a few tears in his eyes. He looks at the ceiling.
Ante Sr: God, this is what I deserve Ante. After all those years of pain and hardship, you still stuck together. As for your brother, I don’t think so. Look at you. You’ve grown into a handsome young man, despite your disorder.
I start to sob. He may have thrown numerous bottles at me over the years, but it was just out of the frustration he felt inside. Losing his wife to reckless driving put a huge block on his life.
Ante: I know dad, and I love you.
His eyes start to close and his cough worsens. He’s almost out.
Ante Sr: And always remember, it’s not flesh and blood that makes us father and son. It’s truly the heart that bonds us.
As his grasp starts to soften and release from my hands, he speaks his final words.
Ante Sr: I love you.
His BPM drops and becomes a flatline. I sob over his lifeless body. I never truly realized what an impact he had on my life. He may have been the biggest assh*le, but he was always still my father.
I walked out of the room and let the nurses handle his body. I saw the Floyd Patterson picture again and smiled. I muttered to myself.
Ante: One day.
I walked out of the hospital, wiping the tears from my eyes. With my father’s death came a new light. It was a new hope. It was as if every star and planet in the universe was aligned for me. My father gave his last bit of life to ensure my future. Every bottle smash and every punch was worth it. Because in the end, he still loved me.
----------
I thought we had it won. The burning vengeance I had for Nikki was unbearable, and quite frankly, that may have cost us the match. I let all of this personal hatred boil within me and forget the objective of the match. I forgot I was part of a team. I forgot that we were in contendership for the tag-team championship. I lost my grasp on reality and let myself drift off into another non-existent universe.
In that universe I was different. I wasn’t a king or messiah. I was a merchant. I let myself fall into a scheme where a looter obtained all of my goods in exchange for pain and suffering. I was out for revenge. With a knife in hand, I chased the looter to every end of the village, just to get everything back. I failed. But, it was as if I completely forgot I had a vicious rottweiler that could’ve caught up to the looter. A rottweiler named Mike. And in a flash, the universe was gone and I found myself in the middle of the ring, almost bowing down to the superior foes, Nikki and Trace. I pleaded for Kyzer to help me, but there was no answer.
Before Kyzer, there was Donnie. Donnie was a spiritual guide to me. He had taught me valuable lessons, sealed in the ingredients of pure Colombian cocaine. As time went on, he slowly drifted into a madman, leaving all of the elements of fatherly advice behind him. He was obsessed with domination and was out for blood. He turned into a different person as I drifted further away from him.
Then there was Kyzer. Kyzer has been in the business for an eternity and if there is someone who knows more than Kyzer, I’d be damned. Whether it was the in’s and the out’s of the business, or simple everyday advice, Kyzer has said it all. I met him at an awkward time, where I was on the verge of leaving the KKK. He was there for me and I would have to learn from the best. It was only a matter of time I began to distance myself from him, per Donnie’s advice.
I am at a crossroads. One road to Donnie and the other to Kyzer. One road to glory and the other to power. Both sound the same, but in reality, one has a much harsher side effect than the other. With power comes corruption. With glory comes greed.
----------
June 21, 2015
Yonkers Cemetery, New York
After days of staring at a wall and ignoring everyone, I finally compelled myself to make a change. With the rage in my eyes, I stood up from my bed and bought a ticket for a round-way trip to Yonkers. I was coming home. I was clearing my mind from Kyzer and Donnie.
But, I mainly returned to Yonkers to visit my father’s grave. It was father’s day and although he gave me some tough sh*t over the years, I had to give him respect. He was my father after all.
As I walked through the various aisles of the cemetery, I noticed how many of the occupants died young. I saw a lot of people who died in their twenties. Some of the names I recognized from school many years ago. Damn.
I then stumbled upon my parents’ grave. I’ve never visited their grave before, but somehow I knew they would be together. Seeing their names together put a smile on my face. They were together at last.
I put my flowers down by their grave. All of the other graves had nothing. I have never been to a cemetery before, as the gloominess and sorrow atmosphere was a surprise to me. The flowers were bright pink and a bit of yellow, adding a positive touch to the terrible atmosphere that we call a cemetery.
I knelt down beside the gravestone and said a prayer. After that I said that I missed them and that everything is fine in my life.
Ante: I love you guys. And dad, happy father’s day.
As I was leaving the cemetery, the rain started to pour down. I rushed to the cheap rental car I got and left. I immediately went to LaGuardia to get a flight back to Seattle. By this point, I was used to the rainy weather.
Aboard my plane, I realized I forgot to visit Frankie. I was so self-consumed in clearing my mind and visiting my father today that I lost the touch from my past. But, more importantly, what will I do when I return to Seattle?
I arrive home late at night to my apartment. As I open the door, an infuriated Michael Kyzer pushes me up against the wall.
Kyzer: Where the f*ck have you been Ante?!
I saw the anger in his eyes as his teeth gritted against each other.
Ante: I-
Kyzer: What the f*ck happened to you?! You feel a lot lighter.
Ante: I haven’t been eating.
Mike lets me down.
Kyzer: Why?
Ante: I haven’t won a single match since February. Ever since I lost the title, I’ve been in a slump.
He pulls out a cig and lights it. I’m used to the smell of his cigs.
Kyzer: Look, we may have lost the match at New Dawn, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like a f*ckin’ teenage girl with that anorexia bullsh*t.
I chuckle.
Kyzer: I’m sorry, do I amuse you?
Ante: Yes, very much.
He pushes me against the wall again.
Kyzer: Look, we are gonna win this f*ckin’ match at Choke Hold, alright? Don’t give me your smartass sh*t.
He lets go again.
Ante: What about Donnie?
Kyzer: Who the f*ck cares about Donnie, f*ck him. No one cares about his bullsh*t.
Ante: Well, it looks like you do.
Kyzer: Ha-ha, very funny Ante.
He looks at the picture of my National Title victory at Men and Monsters and lifts it off the wall. He holds it in his hands.
Kyzer: What a nice picture you got here Ante.
Ante: Don't-
He then smashes it on the floor and storms out.
Kyzer: We are going to f*ckin’ win this thing. And if we don’t, I don’t know what to do with you. Grow a f*ckin’ pair kid.
He leaves the broken glass and his cig on the floor. I lean down and pick up the broken picture. The broken glass cuts my hand and I start to bleed.
Ante: Haha Mike. You’ve picked a fight with the wrong guy.
I laugh as the glass cuts deeper and deeper into my skin. The fury and happiness that I felt today make the cuts euphorically please me. The bipolar disorder also makes it that much better.
----------
Ever since pairing up with Kyzer, I’ve had that mentality, in which I do whatever he does as a lord to apprentice thing. Kyzer’s a d*ck, I’m a d*ck. Kyzer shoots up heroin, I shoot up heroin.
But, this time, that mentality faded away. It faded away through a blissfully, freshly-smoked, joint. F*ck Kyzer. If he’s a d*ck, then f*ck him. He shoots up heroin, then f*ck him.
I viewed him as a guide to my future. If he truly is what Donnie says he is, I owe Donnie a f*cking dollar. He is a mastermind after all. But what if Donnie is wrong? What if Kyzer had this brief outburst and that’s it?
I’ll never know if I see the wrath of Kyzer. But, if I do, I’ll be ready.
----------
That brings me to the upcoming match. Three teams. One winner. One more ticket to redemption.
Thornstowe and Gotch. Thornstowe, I know you very well. Gotch, not so much. I don’t know who you are Gotch. Quite frankly, I don’t care who you are either. Mystery excites me. Thornstowe, welcome back to the show. It’s been a little while since I’ve fought you. Looking at that picture the other day reminded me of your existence. If it wasn’t for Kyzer breaking that picture, I probably would’ve forgot that you were still in the company.
Speaking of employment, where’s Chase, Jayson? I mean, I know where he is, but do you know? If not, I’ll just tell you he’s sleeping with the fishes. But, this is our first encounter Jayson. You too Jack. Hollywood Unhinged 2.0 is one of the hottest things around here at the moment. I’m sorry that you will be eliminated from this tournament, but as for you Jack. You have a valiant opportunity ahead of you in your match against Nikki Dean. In all honesty, you will be the better fit for that title. I don’t think anyone wants to see a sleazy bitch hold that title.
And if we win this match, Whitner and Kyzer will be back on the road to tag-team gold. Nikki, Trace, vengeance is in the air and it is about time you smelled it. By the end of the night, you two will be praying the “Our Father” to Kyzer. F*ck is a powerful thing you two.
And in a matter of weeks, F*ck will be engraved into everyone's minds.
Our Father
It’s been weeks since I’ve last seen Kyzer or Donnie. My body is starved. My mohawk is grown out and my beard is reaching the middle of my neck. I haven’t eaten in days. The lack of hydration causes my skin to dry out and peel off. Desperate for food, I bite off the dead skin and eat it. I chew on the soft touch of the skin that was once mine. I haven’t showered in days either. I reek of defeat. I’m the epitome of loss. I ignored Ben’s calls. I haven’t done anything, but sit inside of my apartment and contemplate my future. I haven’t won a match since February.
I stared at the wall for hours, maybe even days. I always looked at that one picture with my National Title victory at Men and Monsters back in November. I was happy back then. It was before any sh*t had stirred up with Donnie and the KoKaine Konspiracy. It was before any sh*t with Mike too. I had looked up to those two men as my father once upon a time. Growing up with the two assh*les in my life, I really didn’t have a fatherly figure until the very end. The end where my father passed on and Charlie was far away from us.
My father’s death molded me into the man I was in that picture. It was the dawning of a new chapter in my life. I was a young man bound for greatness. Now, I’m bound for anorexia and sleep deprivation.
I remember the last few days I had with my father. He had shown the side of him that I never saw in him before. It reminded me of the happier times we shared with mom so many years ago. As children, Charlie and I were innocent, happily growing up in the suburbs of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It was time where we had my grandfather and grandmother sharing meals with us everyday. It all came to an end when my mother got into that car one evening. It was then that my father had bailed on paying the bills and we moved to a disgusting house in Yonkers. It was like Anakin Skywalker had turned to the dark side and had become Darth Vader.
----------------
March 25, 2010
Yonkers City Hospital
It was only a few months after Frankie’s paralysis. Charlie was long gone and I was left to take care of my father and Frankie. My father was diagnosed with liver cancer a year earlier. He drank all of his problems away and it all just caught up to him. It was as if my father was serving a life sentence for the crimes he committed when I was a child. All of the alcohol. All of the abuse.
My father’s cancer went into remission a few months ago. However, as I was starting to make a name for myself around town as a feared wrestler, his cancer returned. This time, his cancer became terminal and his chance to live was slim to none. I had to spend every last minute with him. After all, he may have been an assh*le for all of my life, but he was still my father. He was the man that tried to raise me after my mother died. He may not have done a good job, but he still taught me lessons that I needed to keep in mind for the rest of my life.
I was waiting in the opposite room in order to be called in. I knew this was goodbye. The atmosphere was surreal. As I was waiting to be called in, I stared at this one picture on the wall across from me. It was a picture of Floyd Patterson, a Yonkers native, when he won the WBC Heavyweight Champion in 1956. Patterson signed the picture before his death a few years ago. He fought his way to the top and in the end, he rightfully earned the prestigious title.
The nurse finally called me in and I entered the room. There was no flowers and no visitors. I was the only one who had visited him for the past few months. He smiled at the sight of my presence.
The nurse, who looked like Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, left the room with an annoyed look on her face.
Ante Sr: Hey Ante.
Ante: Hey dad.
I pulled my chair closer to him and he grabbed my hand.
Ante Sr: This it it. This is my last day.
Little tears welled up in my eyes.
Ante: I know dad.
My father started smiling again as he looked me in the eyes. He saw the abuse he had cause in my bright blue eyes.
Ante Sr: I’m sorry Ante. I failed you and your brother.
Ante: It’s okay dad. Look at where I am now.
I held up the wrestling magazine I had brought for him. I was on the front cover with a smug look on my face and a title belt around my shoulder.
Ante Sr: You’re the king now, aren’t you?
We both laughed a little. His change of attitude came with the cancer he was diagnosed with. It was a two for one deal.
Ante: Yeah, dad. I guess I am.
Ante Sr: Good, never forget that. You’re a Whitner, Ante. We were forged from the Croatian greats.
My family is Croatian. My great-grandparents immigrated to America from Croatia during World War II. I was only half-Croatian, due to my mother’s side mainly comprising of Italians. But, the Whitner name was synonymous with Croatian history, with many war heroes having a surname similar to Whitner.
Ante: Yeah.
Ante Sr: Why so gloomy Ante? Is it because I won’t be here tomorrow?
Ante: Kind of. I just know I’m gonna make a name for myself out there and the only person that will know it is Frankie.
Ante Sr: I understand, but I will know from this very moment that you will be a better man than I ever was.
Ante: Don’t say that, you’re my father. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I am now.
I notice a few tears in his eyes. He looks at the ceiling.
Ante Sr: God, this is what I deserve Ante. After all those years of pain and hardship, you still stuck together. As for your brother, I don’t think so. Look at you. You’ve grown into a handsome young man, despite your disorder.
I start to sob. He may have thrown numerous bottles at me over the years, but it was just out of the frustration he felt inside. Losing his wife to reckless driving put a huge block on his life.
Ante: I know dad, and I love you.
His eyes start to close and his cough worsens. He’s almost out.
Ante Sr: And always remember, it’s not flesh and blood that makes us father and son. It’s truly the heart that bonds us.
As his grasp starts to soften and release from my hands, he speaks his final words.
Ante Sr: I love you.
His BPM drops and becomes a flatline. I sob over his lifeless body. I never truly realized what an impact he had on my life. He may have been the biggest assh*le, but he was always still my father.
I walked out of the room and let the nurses handle his body. I saw the Floyd Patterson picture again and smiled. I muttered to myself.
Ante: One day.
I walked out of the hospital, wiping the tears from my eyes. With my father’s death came a new light. It was a new hope. It was as if every star and planet in the universe was aligned for me. My father gave his last bit of life to ensure my future. Every bottle smash and every punch was worth it. Because in the end, he still loved me.
----------
I thought we had it won. The burning vengeance I had for Nikki was unbearable, and quite frankly, that may have cost us the match. I let all of this personal hatred boil within me and forget the objective of the match. I forgot I was part of a team. I forgot that we were in contendership for the tag-team championship. I lost my grasp on reality and let myself drift off into another non-existent universe.
In that universe I was different. I wasn’t a king or messiah. I was a merchant. I let myself fall into a scheme where a looter obtained all of my goods in exchange for pain and suffering. I was out for revenge. With a knife in hand, I chased the looter to every end of the village, just to get everything back. I failed. But, it was as if I completely forgot I had a vicious rottweiler that could’ve caught up to the looter. A rottweiler named Mike. And in a flash, the universe was gone and I found myself in the middle of the ring, almost bowing down to the superior foes, Nikki and Trace. I pleaded for Kyzer to help me, but there was no answer.
Before Kyzer, there was Donnie. Donnie was a spiritual guide to me. He had taught me valuable lessons, sealed in the ingredients of pure Colombian cocaine. As time went on, he slowly drifted into a madman, leaving all of the elements of fatherly advice behind him. He was obsessed with domination and was out for blood. He turned into a different person as I drifted further away from him.
Then there was Kyzer. Kyzer has been in the business for an eternity and if there is someone who knows more than Kyzer, I’d be damned. Whether it was the in’s and the out’s of the business, or simple everyday advice, Kyzer has said it all. I met him at an awkward time, where I was on the verge of leaving the KKK. He was there for me and I would have to learn from the best. It was only a matter of time I began to distance myself from him, per Donnie’s advice.
I am at a crossroads. One road to Donnie and the other to Kyzer. One road to glory and the other to power. Both sound the same, but in reality, one has a much harsher side effect than the other. With power comes corruption. With glory comes greed.
----------
June 21, 2015
Yonkers Cemetery, New York
After days of staring at a wall and ignoring everyone, I finally compelled myself to make a change. With the rage in my eyes, I stood up from my bed and bought a ticket for a round-way trip to Yonkers. I was coming home. I was clearing my mind from Kyzer and Donnie.
But, I mainly returned to Yonkers to visit my father’s grave. It was father’s day and although he gave me some tough sh*t over the years, I had to give him respect. He was my father after all.
As I walked through the various aisles of the cemetery, I noticed how many of the occupants died young. I saw a lot of people who died in their twenties. Some of the names I recognized from school many years ago. Damn.
I then stumbled upon my parents’ grave. I’ve never visited their grave before, but somehow I knew they would be together. Seeing their names together put a smile on my face. They were together at last.
I put my flowers down by their grave. All of the other graves had nothing. I have never been to a cemetery before, as the gloominess and sorrow atmosphere was a surprise to me. The flowers were bright pink and a bit of yellow, adding a positive touch to the terrible atmosphere that we call a cemetery.
I knelt down beside the gravestone and said a prayer. After that I said that I missed them and that everything is fine in my life.
Ante: I love you guys. And dad, happy father’s day.
As I was leaving the cemetery, the rain started to pour down. I rushed to the cheap rental car I got and left. I immediately went to LaGuardia to get a flight back to Seattle. By this point, I was used to the rainy weather.
Aboard my plane, I realized I forgot to visit Frankie. I was so self-consumed in clearing my mind and visiting my father today that I lost the touch from my past. But, more importantly, what will I do when I return to Seattle?
I arrive home late at night to my apartment. As I open the door, an infuriated Michael Kyzer pushes me up against the wall.
Kyzer: Where the f*ck have you been Ante?!
I saw the anger in his eyes as his teeth gritted against each other.
Ante: I-
Kyzer: What the f*ck happened to you?! You feel a lot lighter.
Ante: I haven’t been eating.
Mike lets me down.
Kyzer: Why?
Ante: I haven’t won a single match since February. Ever since I lost the title, I’ve been in a slump.
He pulls out a cig and lights it. I’m used to the smell of his cigs.
Kyzer: Look, we may have lost the match at New Dawn, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like a f*ckin’ teenage girl with that anorexia bullsh*t.
I chuckle.
Kyzer: I’m sorry, do I amuse you?
Ante: Yes, very much.
He pushes me against the wall again.
Kyzer: Look, we are gonna win this f*ckin’ match at Choke Hold, alright? Don’t give me your smartass sh*t.
He lets go again.
Ante: What about Donnie?
Kyzer: Who the f*ck cares about Donnie, f*ck him. No one cares about his bullsh*t.
Ante: Well, it looks like you do.
Kyzer: Ha-ha, very funny Ante.
He looks at the picture of my National Title victory at Men and Monsters and lifts it off the wall. He holds it in his hands.
Kyzer: What a nice picture you got here Ante.
Ante: Don't-
He then smashes it on the floor and storms out.
Kyzer: We are going to f*ckin’ win this thing. And if we don’t, I don’t know what to do with you. Grow a f*ckin’ pair kid.
He leaves the broken glass and his cig on the floor. I lean down and pick up the broken picture. The broken glass cuts my hand and I start to bleed.
Ante: Haha Mike. You’ve picked a fight with the wrong guy.
I laugh as the glass cuts deeper and deeper into my skin. The fury and happiness that I felt today make the cuts euphorically please me. The bipolar disorder also makes it that much better.
----------
Ever since pairing up with Kyzer, I’ve had that mentality, in which I do whatever he does as a lord to apprentice thing. Kyzer’s a d*ck, I’m a d*ck. Kyzer shoots up heroin, I shoot up heroin.
But, this time, that mentality faded away. It faded away through a blissfully, freshly-smoked, joint. F*ck Kyzer. If he’s a d*ck, then f*ck him. He shoots up heroin, then f*ck him.
I viewed him as a guide to my future. If he truly is what Donnie says he is, I owe Donnie a f*cking dollar. He is a mastermind after all. But what if Donnie is wrong? What if Kyzer had this brief outburst and that’s it?
I’ll never know if I see the wrath of Kyzer. But, if I do, I’ll be ready.
----------
That brings me to the upcoming match. Three teams. One winner. One more ticket to redemption.
Thornstowe and Gotch. Thornstowe, I know you very well. Gotch, not so much. I don’t know who you are Gotch. Quite frankly, I don’t care who you are either. Mystery excites me. Thornstowe, welcome back to the show. It’s been a little while since I’ve fought you. Looking at that picture the other day reminded me of your existence. If it wasn’t for Kyzer breaking that picture, I probably would’ve forgot that you were still in the company.
Speaking of employment, where’s Chase, Jayson? I mean, I know where he is, but do you know? If not, I’ll just tell you he’s sleeping with the fishes. But, this is our first encounter Jayson. You too Jack. Hollywood Unhinged 2.0 is one of the hottest things around here at the moment. I’m sorry that you will be eliminated from this tournament, but as for you Jack. You have a valiant opportunity ahead of you in your match against Nikki Dean. In all honesty, you will be the better fit for that title. I don’t think anyone wants to see a sleazy bitch hold that title.
And if we win this match, Whitner and Kyzer will be back on the road to tag-team gold. Nikki, Trace, vengeance is in the air and it is about time you smelled it. By the end of the night, you two will be praying the “Our Father” to Kyzer. F*ck is a powerful thing you two.
And in a matter of weeks, F*ck will be engraved into everyone's minds.