Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2015 22:30:51 GMT -5
Jayson Garrett, aka, one half of Hollywood Unhinged 2.0, is one of the best pro wrestlers in the world. This is what he does when he's not in the ring. When he was last seen, he kicked the sh*t out of two Kurosawa-kai yakuza members. They weren't happy, bro.
Okay, this looks bad. There's a gun pointed at me, right at my head, by the leader of a yakuza branch, in the basement of somewhere. I'm not too sure where. All I know is there's a ton of cocaine here. Standing in the doorway of this dingy basement are five armed police officers. And they're all screaming back and forth. In Japanese. I don't know where I am, what they're saying, or even what's going to happen to me. All I know is that I'm here, and have a match in Tokyo where I'll literally have to be buried under the Sakura to miss it. How did I get here though? That's a hell of a story.
Osaka, Japan - Kurosawa-kai Headquarters
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Katashi sits in his usual chair behind his giant metal table dusted with the white product they smuggle in and out of Japan. Most all the police turn a blind eye. Why should they care about what really doesn't affect them? Especially with a guy like Katashi. Not because of wealth, though that doesn't hurt. A group of fifteen guys, even less, how much harm can they do? This is the exact line of thought that Katashi is able to bank on. All the other 12 men in Kurosawa-kai, each missing a part of their left pinky, are gathered in the room. The two men Garrett encountered in the street hadn't fully healed, the one with the knocked out tooth still hadn't it fixed. The other's broken nose hadn't reset. Regardless, Katashi doesn't care. He has a big plan. He begins to speak in their native tongue.
Katashi sits in his usual chair behind his giant metal table dusted with the white product they smuggle in and out of Japan. Most all the police turn a blind eye. Why should they care about what really doesn't affect them? Especially with a guy like Katashi. Not because of wealth, though that doesn't hurt. A group of fifteen guys, even less, how much harm can they do? This is the exact line of thought that Katashi is able to bank on. All the other 12 men in Kurosawa-kai, each missing a part of their left pinky, are gathered in the room. The two men Garrett encountered in the street hadn't fully healed, the one with the knocked out tooth still hadn't it fixed. The other's broken nose hadn't reset. Regardless, Katashi doesn't care. He has a big plan. He begins to speak in their native tongue.
"By now, our friend Jayson Garrett is in Tokyo. Which means we will have the green light to strike, and we will tomorrow night. All of the WFWF wrestlers stay in the Tokyo courtyard. This is a perfect location. Jayson surely will hit the nightlife. He is a big Hollywood star. We wait for him to come back to the hotel, then we go. Daichi, Hiroshi (Katashi turns behind him towards his towering bodyguards), you two follow Jayson into the elevator. Beat him and then you bring him to our van via the back entrance. In through the front, out through the back."
Katashi takes a break from laying out this plan to pick up the carton of cigarettes and pull one out. The bodyguard identified as Daichi hands him his lighter and lights it for him. The entire meeting grinds to a halt so Katashi can smoke his cigarette. This is a common happening for the Kurosawa-kai and it simply emphasizes what many that are aware of the yakuza happenings felt about this branch.
Katashi, being son of an extremely wealthy father, was somewhat of a silver spoon child. Nothing that he wanted was too much. No food too fine, no wine too old, every good thing in life had to be experienced by Katashi and his dad felt the same way. This feeling was shared by his dad in part to his upbringing with no mother. To make up for the fact that he could not be both mom and dad, Katashi's father simply bought his son's love, and it worked.
His dad passed away on the eve of Katashi's 35th birthday, which left behind a great amount of wealth for his only son. The general feeling was that if Katashi immediately put it into working to grow, he would be a vital player in the Japanese yakuza community. Alas, Katashi was still gluttonous as he aged and the near $22 million USD inheritance was thrown away on pleasure. In addition, during the bust that crippled his once 200 member organization, many felt he should give in, avoid losing all his men to jail, and work through a middle man. Besides, he'd be out as soon as the judge's pockets were thoroughly lined. Instead he remained away from the police while his numbers were ravaged. Katashi was a great source of money, but had a tendency to live crazily. Now was no different. Katashi finishes the cigarette and continues without missing a beat.
"There'll be three vans, two decoys in case, one with Garrett. He makes no noise, we make no noise. Take him to the Tokyo base, and from there we wait for our money. All this done when sun's down, all done before sun's up. All ready?"
The men, whether they are or not, shake their heads yes.
"Damn right you are. Out, to the cars. We have planes to catch."
Katashi is up first and walks out, his bodyguards follow, then the men one by one through the narrow doorway. The plot has been hatched.
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Vampires and Wolves
There's plenty of things that, according to legend, only come out at night. Things like wolves, coyotes, monsters, vampires, all sorts of things. There's plenty of myths and fables told everywhere in the world. The difference between these and the yakuza is that the yakuza isn't just a tall tale, they're the real deal. After the run-in with the two guys in Osaka, I was able to connect the dots eventually. Two suited guys in the early morning, gaijin guy (actor and wrestler or not, we're easy targets), it's something to be a little concerned about. Not too concerned though. The last thing I want to do is be more concerned about something outside of the ring than in it before a pay per view. I'm on slightly higher alert.
I do what I always do in Japan, venture out away from all the tourist areas and into the more localized areas. Tokyo is a different beast though. The lights never dim, the city doesn't go to sleep like Osaka. It's gigantic, after all, it might as well be the only town in Japan according to everyone outside of the country. The nightlife of Tokyo no matter where you go is somewhat Western from all the tourists, but you still have the gaijin bars. Tokyo's more fun when you have no limits to the amount of fun you can have.
I venture down the city streets of the huge, buzzing city. It literally buzzes. There's a constant steady stream of bee-like buzzing from the amount of electric lighted signs up and down every block. You can tell you're heading deeper and deeper into the city when the signs go from Japanese and English to a few with both, to all Japanese. The signs for the PPV are littered on building and bus stations, light posts and store windows. The official poster, other match based posters, ones advertising Masahiko Ishimura in action, which is when I realized the marketing to the Japanese fans was working. I look at my match picture. I smirk at it upon realization that walking up and down these streets, I'll never be bothered even by those that know how I am. It's one thing that I love about Japan, they leave you alone. Upon thinking about that, however, you start to realize that while some days you're going to be the only one you've got, other days you need someone. Things like that are what I wish I had known when I was younger.
As the young, budding talent that I was throughout college, I learned that vampires and wolves were real. They didn't just come out when it was night though, they came out when it was dark. They came out when you were in the dark. It's hard to avoid them, especially in tragedy. When you're in the dark, normally you'd want to go in towards your beacon of hope. The problem with that is that there's several different lights. Almost like you're stuck in the bottom of the ocean. Above you, you see your faint glimmer of the surface. It may not be the most convenient light or easiest to access, but it's there and it'll end up saving you. Then there's the predators holding out that false light. The angler fish has that light on it's forehead that causes prey to go straight to it. It's warm, inviting, almost friendly. So you welcome in and shun the light that takes longer to get to. That was my first mistake.
Sometimes in your own darkness, you fail to see that you're the one that's the monster pulling down someone. In my rough time, fending off gold-digging family and trying to find myself the greatest amount of possible success my girlfriend Virginia was the light at the surface, was. Despite that, I ended up letting her down most. It's something that's bothered me to this day and it's one thing about my past that I'd been able to suppress for the most part. Now in Japan, the thoughts can begin to come out. It's my job to make sure I avoid them.
The thing about this false light, this false hope, is that it's so easy to just continue indulging and ignore and anything else. Once you slip farther and farther into the darkness not only is it becoming more and more welcoming. For me, that was my struggle. This country was the false hope, my safe haven to enjoy nights out and forget about the light that Virginia was. You just don't realize the options that you have once you start slipping closer to the false light, and I could stop before it was too far gone. By then though, the surface was long gone, and it was up to me to get myself out. Which I did. It took well into my WFWF career, but I did. That doesn't mean I'm the greatest guy in the world. It's far from it. Now I know something important though. There will be times when someone has your back and time's where you're the only one you have. In Tokyo, Diamond Jack Sabbath has my back. And we will be victorious.
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Outside the Tokyo Courtyard Hotel - Tokyo, Japan
Katashi Kurosawa sits along with his two personal bodyguards in one of three identical black vans. Inside the other two vans are five men each. All Kurosawa-kai members, no matter where they where they were placed originally, have congregated for the most important moment of their gang's history. They'd been stationed out there since nine o'clock awaiting for what they assumed would be his return to the hotel. Another flaw of Katashi was that his planning was far less than stellar. He had to rely on luck for this plan, which is not what was ideal for such a huge plan according to him.
The clock ticks to 11 P.M., Katashi sat there noiseless, simply staring at the Courtyard's door. There's a CB radio on the dashboard with a stream of chatter every now and then from the other two vans in Japanese. He doesn't respond outside of a few short answers. His bodyguards are there quietly too saying nothing wearing suits that match Katashi's. Katashi decided rather quickly he liked the uniformity of matching suits with his bodyguards and for the biggest night of the small yakuza's career, this would continue.
At 11:15 P.M. Jayson Garrett made his way down the block and the chatter immediately picked up. Katashi merely nodded to the two men and they nodded back and popped the trunk of their van. The larger man, Hiroshi, pulls out a massive, empty suitcase. They slam the trunk closed and walk calmly through the sliding doors. Katashi puts the van in drive and states in a gruff Japanese accent over the CB:
"Plan underway. Back entrance, now."
And so the three vans make their way to the back of the hotel for the next part of their plan.
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I wanted to stay out for longer than just 8 to 11, I really did. I wanted to get another taste of the fun that Tokyo could bring to me on this night. But I couldn't because all these thoughts I didn't even think about in Osaka came creeping in. It's incredibly hard to have a good time when all these bad thoughts and memories you've been able to suppress start creeping back in. I head back into the hotel and get into the elevator and the doors nearly close when two big dudes in suits come in duck their heads and face forward with their heads still down. I don't think much about it and the floors continue to pass by as I stand in this elevator.
*BEEP* 3.
*BEEP* 4.
*BEEP* 5.
Three more floors. Then it hits me.
*BEEP* 6. T
hese guys are dressed exactly like the dudes on the street. But that could mean anything.
*BEEP* 7.
I'm just paranoid. I take an audible breath.
*BEEP* 8.
The doors open, and then I step out of the elevator, and then there's a thud to the back of my head, and I lose consciousness.
I'd never been pistol-whipped before. I was hoping I'd never have to. I'd seen it happen before. Once, during a gang battle driving through Oakland. I was 16 and almost immediately gotten lost with some friends from high school. We decided to stay on the vertical streets through the neighborhood but peering down the side street we saw some dude get clocked with a handgun. Up to that point it was just kinda an adventure through "the hood" of Oakland. Seeing that there was a change in mood from at first laughter, to silence, before I finally said, "We've gotta get the f*ck out of here."
Now, a good ten years later, getting whacked in the back of the head with a pistol was my moment where this wasn't just some one-off run-in. It's not just some adventure where Jayson Garrett is back in the movie business and his next role is a yakuza fighting action hero. This is what's going on in my life right now. Now I have no clue what's going on or where I am. It takes a while to wake back up, but I do. On my lap are two pieces of fingers. I figure this is a fear tactic, something to make me worry and rile myself up even more. There's a good amount of guys in the room, probably too many for the room is fairly small. I recognize a few faces, the guys that tried to jump me. Still sporting scars, which gave me a little sense of pride. The guy that served me drinks that night in Osaka. I tried to spot the guys who jumped me in the elevator and come to the conclusion that the only two guys big enough were standing by a crumpled middle-aged man in a suit talking on the phone. One of the other guys notices my eyes are open.
"Katashi."
The middle-aged guy turns around.
"Kare wa saikōdesu."
He turns over and looks at me and gives a grunt before going back to talking on the phone.
It was weirdly quiet in there. I'm being ignored by everyone outside of a cursory glance. I look around the room and there's a stupid amount of cocaine in one huge mound on the other side of the room. The guy on the phone, Katashi, I assume is the head of the yakuza group. He's in a constant chatter that's turned into a yell by now, all in Japanese. Things are still hazy and I can't make out anything he's saying or who it's to. Black market specialists in organ dealing? Am I a throw-in to some drug deal? The thoughts worry me and having my arms tied with a cloth and my mouth gagged doesn't help the situation.
A lot of things ran through my mind sitting on the floor, wavering in and out of a lucid state. It didn't feel like a life or death situation because of how quiet and reserved everyone in the room acted, but I knew they were armed and it could be one at a moment's notice. The thought of that troubled me. I have a match to win. I have titles and achievements to gain. Something like death can't happen to me now, that's just not what I can allow. Soon enough, I did become riled up. How could they take me hostage like this? They think this scares me? I beat two of their asses, I can take on more. As time went on, I realized this was the adrenaline kicking in and sometimes there's an opening, other times there's not. I remained seated on the floor waiting.
I got my bearings long enough to listen in to what Katashi was saying and recognized one word. "Yen." Things came flooding to me and it hit me. I'm being held hostage for money. If they wanted to kill me, they would have already. In the elevator, in Osaka, on the way here, even right now. They can't afford for me to be dead. Now I realize I can get out of this. Someone's bound to at least come. I soon see they already have as I look above me and in the sole window of the room seeing flashing lights of EMS vehicles. Everyone in that room looked like they aged about ten years since I saw them when I first woke up. And there I sat, simply waiting. Stuck.
The whole knowledge that I'm not going to end up dead in the Pacific Ocean was rather comforting, but the whole situation is nerve-wracking. These guys are simply in it for the money. They know that I can command it, but who's going to give it? How long am I going to be here? I hope this doesn't catch the light of day. It probably won't, yakuza matters are covered up rather well. But the question is how long are they going to hold out? I imagine it's pretty early in the morning. This could last for a while, but seeing how animated this guy has become, I don't know exactly how patient he is.
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Inside the Tokyo Headquarters of Kurosawa-kai
Katashi is very quickly losing patience with the designated police assigned for negotiating. The added pressure of the police cars and ambulances are not making matters much better. The nerves mixed with the drugs in the system are making tensions rather high for Katashi. He has made the offer for what he wanted, the police authorities have simply stated they will not be offering anything and demand Garrett's release, especially with Katashi's reputation of being rather crazy. Orders have already been given that they are to not enter the headquarters for at least ten hours unless shots are fired inside. This, of course, leads to a stalemate and leads to even heightened pressure on Katashi.
The thing about Katashi is that he's never ever wanted to wait. It doesn't matter for what, he's been waited on and given things whenever he wants. It has only increased as he grew from young man to grown-up. Now, it has reached an all-time high, especially in coke-filled rage. As it is, this is not a very good trait for someone trying to have a stand-off and hold out for as much money as he wants. He feels the need to do something drastic, just to show he's serious. And do that he will.
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Katashi slams the phone down and glares angrily my way. He yells over in Japanese to one of the bodyguards.
"Naifu!"
The bodyguard hands him a large, sharp-looking blade. At this point I'm starting to worry. I assume they won't kill me, but having seen the decapitated finger pieces, I can connect the dots. It wouldn't kill me, but it'd be a hell of an inconvenience, especially just nights before my match in the Tokyo Dome. My head begins to process thoughts all at once on what to do. The other bodyguard lifts me up as the one that handed Katashi the knife looks on. I look at the two men and while letting them get me place, begin to size them up. Then I catch a glimpse of one of their waistbands and remember the handgun. If I can get one of them down and fire off a shot at the window, the EMS guys will have to at least check out what's happened. Me being dead is far more a hassle for them than one would expect. I know that it's going to have to be time to do something.
The two guys make their approach over, one holding my hand for Katashi, the other behind me. Now or never. Katashi hasn't yet drawn back, but I kick the shin out of the one holding my hand in place, which conks his head off the table knocking him out. As he falls to the floor I shove the folding chair back at the other's legs shocking him for a second and allowing me to sweep his legs out as I roll on the ground. I flip the table over just in case any of the guys try a shot and sure enough, one does. Katashi yells "Īe!" over and over. Now I frisk the bodyguard's suit coat and sure enough, handgun. I take a shot at the window and it shatters. I hear a slight commotion, and sure enough, down steps inside come Japanese police officers. Now things go a bit south, Katashi, now seemingly nothing to lose, takes out a pistol of his own and points it at me, behind the table. In barge in the police.
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The police knock in the door, guns drawn around the room. None of the other men have theirs out, just Katashi. It's a back-and-forth conversation, all in Japanese.
"Gun down, now!"
"No! Give me the damn money!"
"We refuse to negotiate with you!"
"Then Garrett's dead!"
"We will shoot!"
"Six billion yen!"
"No yen, no currency of any kind, drop the gun!"
"Release my men from prison! And yen! Six billion!"
"No yen, no men! We're here to get Garrett!"
"What about this, you get the cocaine, as much as you want for whatever reason you want. You give us 20 percent if any is sold, and free 10 men a month till all are out. We'll release Garrett, but you give us down-payment. 20 million yen, right now."
"All the cocaine."
"If you want it all, take it all."
Obviously they have more in Osaka, but this does not concern the police based in Tokyo. If there's one thing that can save a yakuza leader, it's a corrupt police force.
"You have a deal. You lower your gun, and you have a deal."
So Katashi lowers his gun. The police lower theirs. The deal has been made, Garrett is no longer a hostage.
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From here on out, it's chaos that I don't understand. Yelling back on forth in Japan. I hear "yen" a few times. "Cocaine" is said. My name is thrown around. It's just yapping to me. Until suddenly, Katashi lowers his gun. Then so do the police. Then the police yell, "Garrett, up!" so I stand. They nod over for me to follow, and so I do. Up the stairs, and out of the dingy room.
I ask them point blank.
"What the hell happened then?"
They refuse to answer. They have one response.
"No worry. All is under control."
I have to wait around a bit for a ride back to the hotel with the police because I sure as hell am not walking yet. I see the police hauling out package after package of cocaine and loading it in squad cars. I think about asking about it, then realize I probably don't want to know. One of the men signals me over to his car and drives me back to the hotel. I see him talking to the front desk woman as well. No questions asked to me, nothing needed to be answered by me. I check on the news, no mention of it. The time is only 4 AM, this took place over a mere five hours. I take the elevator, same one in fact. No one else in it this time. I retire to my room and sleep, letting all my thoughts drift away for another day's worries and am fast asleep. I'm away from the city, away from my thoughts, from the vampires and wolves.
Nothing, not a damn thing, is going to stop me from making my presence known on this show. It's rather tiring to hear that all I am is just a tag team specialist, like that's all I'm ever good for. How about you look at the facts. I've competed for the World Championship while still holding the tag team championship. In just my second match I had a National Championship match where I took Joe Bishop right down to the wire. I've had singles glory, fame, and have chosen to stick with a team. Now though, with all this talk, it's time to prove doubters wrong. I have something in store for every last person that's doubted me. You think I'm just a tag team guy? That's all I'll ever amount to? How about you watch the show at Tokyo where I destroy two of your precious barrier-breaking singles stars in my home court; tag team warfare.
There's not a better person that could be Penny Shannon's partner than Ms. Scarlett Quinn. This is something I've been dying for since literally the day I walked in that door. Do you know why? At Battleground, all the way back in August 2013, I made my debut. I was going to set the WFWF on fire, and I made my mind up that one day I was going to win the World Championship. The holder of said belt was the aforementioned Scarlett Quinn. From that day, seeing her on those posters, her brutal fights with guys like Trace Demon, all I knew I wanted was to triumph over her. I want to prove to the entire world that my time as a premier star has come. It's my turn to take center stage. Who would've ever guessed that we'd meet this way, huh? The kid making his debut and the reigning and defending champion two years ago, coming close to the day. This is where I set the bar. This is the match that I show that I'm not just that kid who would run his mouth and that you're not the champion everyone still remembers you as. It's my turn to get the limelight. In this meeting like two ships passing in the night, I'll get it.
I could talk for ages about Penny Shannon. There's a lot of things I actively dislike about her. I hate the fact that she's been worshiped since her return from that attack at the hands of Schneider. She's not this idol that should be put on some pedestal, far from it. She's a cracking sculpture who has been given another coat of paint to cover up her flaws. Eventually that paint is going to dry and crack itself, and I'm going to expose everything you've worked so hard at covering up. I hate the fact that she stepped in at the last minute and wouldn't let me end the streak of Stan McMann. I still hate the fact that she was able to take my personal business with Zmey and make it the S.O.S.'s business. There's a lot of past problems, but how about I start writing history. I'm going to make you one-half of the first page on this chapter that I'm writing in my career. As far as I'm concerned, you and your new old best friend would have been better off as enemies. As soon as you two reunited you drew a big "X" right on your backs. Now it's my turn to knock you straight out of the WFWF yet again.
The story of myself and Diamond Jack Sabbath has already gone through several twists and turns, but now we end up here in Tokyo, Japan with an opportunity to prove that we are indeed one of the best teams in this company. It's a consolation prize to the original one we set our sights on but it's a hell of a gift. This is a chance to showcase myself to Japan and to the world that Jayson Garrett is still going to be hanging with and beating top-tier talent on a regular basis. I've beaten Joe Bishop, I've beaten Michael Kyzer, I've beaten Tugarin Zmey, I've beaten my friend Shawn Malakai, but all these are just steps. Scarlett Quinn and Penny Shannon are two more steps that will be added to the already impressive and growing list of stops on my journey to the top of the WFWF. Things are a-changin here. Whether it's the tag team division, the singles division, or just in general, since two years ago a lot has changed to the point where I'm damn close to becoming a veteran. I've seen faces come and go like water droplets. Big or small, household names or simply guys who never cracked the main event scene, countless names. I certainly thought both of you two would be just two more names. Here we are though. Now it's my job to make you two of those names. Now, let's hear it for the boys.
