Destroy What You Enjoy RP: Ballad of the Somnambulist
Sept 25, 2019 20:01:16 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 20:01:16 GMT -5
I make my way to the custodial area of the park. It’s a small, dark corner in the very back, away from everyone which considering my mood right now is a very good thing.
Huffing and puffing with every step, I ignore everyone around me that tries to offer their congratulations.
Huffing and puffing with every step, I ignore everyone around me that tries to offer their congratulations.
I beat Luke Marshall’s phony ass. It felt good watching him squirm as I had him trapped in the Rings. Hearing him scream in pain with nowhere to go until he had no choice but to pass out. What a bitch.
I should be ecstatic but I’m not. Instead, I feel like ripping someone’s head off.
I have this anger inside me where I feel like I could go off at any moment.
This is what withdrawal looks like. I haven’t had a drink in hours and my brain doesn’t know what to do so I’m here, feeling like a caged animal as a result.
As I turn the corner that leads to my area, I see my crew – and her which doesn’t help my mood.
Don’t talk to me.
Don’t talk to me.
Don’t f**king talk to me.
Don’t talk to me.
Don’t talk to me.
Don’t f**king talk to me.
“Congratulations on the win, Billy!”
I walk right past her, but I can the clicks from her heels trailing behind me. I’m sober enough to know that me attacking Sleater out of pure rage isn’t a smart idea but I would be lying if I said that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
“Look, Ms. Sleater, I’m not exactly feeling too well so if you could please –“
“What’s wrong?”
You know exactly what’s wrong. You saw the whole thing. You saw the moment my entire life crumbled before my very eyes and how powerless I was to stop it.
Now I drown my sorrows in liquor because it helps me deal with it.
Now I drown my sorrows in liquor because it helps me deal with it.
Now’s not the time to be my shrink.
“Nothing, I’m just exhausted and –“
“No, it’s not nothing. You have been acting very strange since Dallas and I just want to know what’s going on with you.”
Maybe it’s the lack of booze coursing through my veins but that last part sounded like a personal attack.
There’s nothing going on with me, lady.
“I want to help. I just need you to let me help.”
My ears pop and all I can hear is my heavy breaths. I can feel my heart about to burst from my chest.
Back. Off.
“I appreciate the concern, Ms. Sleater but really I’m –“
“Don’t bulls**t me, Billy.”
Hearing Sleater curse is different but I know what she’s trying to do. If she cusses, she might get her point across, that’s what she’s thinking but it ain’t going to work on me.
“You’ve always showed up on time for work but since Dallas, you’ve been late to every show. You not having a phone means no one can get ahold of you for days. Bart told me that your apartment was a mess when he stopped by. I’m worried about you.”
Oh please. My ma died years ago; I don’t need you mothering me now too.
“You aren’t yourself, Billy. Something is wrong. I know how upset you’ve been since Jenny –"
Suddenly, I hear nothing but a sharp ringing in my ear. Sharp enough to make a man go crazy. Upon her say my daughter’s name, something came over me.
BANG!
I shove the metal lockers down, sending them crashing onto the floor.
It sounded like a shotgun blast.
I can hear myself screaming as I grab whatever custodial equipment I can find and throw it against the wall, sending Sleater as well as my crew scurrying away in fear of the madman before them. I grab various brooms and snap them in half like twigs. I call Sleater every name in the book as I destroy everything in my sight.
I smash the green plastic table that my crews use to play poker on with my hands. I then grab the broken pieces and throw them at Sleater – and my crew.
“LEAVE ME THE F**K ALONE!!!”
By now, some of her lackeys have come running in to see what the commotion is about but they run too once I throw broken custodial equipment at them. They know better than to approach me right now, otherwise I’d tear them apart.
I’m out of breath, leaving the custodial area a wreck. From behind the corner, I see Sleater poke her head in.
She has guts.
A small crowd follows suit.
“What is going on with you, Billy?”
I look at her with a look of venom.
She won’t let up, will she?
"I said - leave. me. alone. NOW!"
She isn't backing down.
"I said - leave. me. alone. NOW!"
She isn't backing down.
“Look, I’m sorry that your daughter isn’t speaking to you right now, but you have no right to talk to me like that!”
“Ehh, go f**k yourself. I don’t need you or your phony ass sympathy.”
With that said, I walk past Sleater and my crew and through the distraught crowd, knowing full well what I just did is going to bite me in the ass later.
Oh well.
F**k it.
A couple of hours later...
"Is the address 1706 Jacobs Street?"
"That's what the app says, doesn't it?"
The punk-ass kid that's just let me into his car noticed the bite in my response as he doesn't respond.
Good. I don't feel like talking.
I'd usually just drive myself home but the rental car service was being difficult so I told them to f**k off and they proceeded to not let me rent a car.
Now I'm stuck in some kid's car where he's blasting some noise that sounds like s**t while on my way back to the hotel.
"So...uhh....what do you do?"
Great. He wants to talk. Must want a tip or something.
I just look at him before turning my attention back to the window where we drive away from Hell.
"Uhh...mister?"
This kid must be dumb. Looks pretty dumb with half of his head shaved.
Can't he get the hint that I'm not in the mood to talk?
"Mister....uhh, Billy?"
I sigh, almost dramatically so he gets it. I look at him with pissed off eyes just to make it crystal.
"Having a bad day?"
"Yeah, I'm having a bad day and talking to you is making it worse, okay?"
I don't know what that was. I was fine just ignoring him but I dunno, just the sound of his voice irritated me. I manage to catch him changing expressions through the mirror.
"F**k you, man!"
Ballsy move by the kid.
Ballsy move by the kid.
"You don't want to do this, kid. You really don't."
"Oh, I do. F**k you! You know what - get the f**k out of my car!"
He pulls off on the side of the road, the car screeching to a halt as cars bolt past us.
"You're a s**tty driver anyway."
"And you're a s**tty person."
"Motherf**ker, you don't know me. You're just some stupid kid."
At this point, he's turned his body to face me as we shout at one another, filming the whole ordeal on his phone. Realizing the kinda power he has and for the sake of maintaining my "secret", I exit his vehicle, making damn sure to slam the door on my way out.
Until...
CRASH!
"Dude, what the f**k!?"
I turn around and see that his back window shattered from the force of the slammed door. The kid is freaking out, rightfully so but that's his problem now.
Not mine.
I leave him be, cursing me on the side of the road but I don't care. My mission is to get home.
Once I'm home and have a few drinks, I'll be calm and things will be much better.
Well, not really.
Until...
CRASH!
"Dude, what the f**k!?"
I turn around and see that his back window shattered from the force of the slammed door. The kid is freaking out, rightfully so but that's his problem now.
Not mine.
I leave him be, cursing me on the side of the road but I don't care. My mission is to get home.
Once I'm home and have a few drinks, I'll be calm and things will be much better.
Well, not really.
Ballad of the Somnambulist
A Billy Broom RP
“I can still see her, sitting on the floor as she hides her face from the entire hospital so they wouldn’t know she was crying.”
“I remember seeing the elevator doors closing on her, unable to go be with her hero who was just taken away on a stretcher. I remember hearing her scream as she pounded on the metal door.”
“I remember approaching her, her back against the elevator, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers in tears before hiding her face again upon seeing me. As if she was embarrassed of me or something.”
My knuckles turn white as I grip my glass of scotch tightly. I’m resisting the urge to just crush the glass with my bare hands and possibly break my kitchen table in the process. The flashbacks are painful to relieve especially since that night was the last night Jenny and I were together for more than five minutes. The more I relive that night, the more it cuts me to my core.
I’m angry and emotional. The more I talk about my daughter, the more I can feel the tears coming.
“She’s my everything! Without her, I’m nothing!”
I down the scotch in one gulp, wincing at the burning sensation tickling down my throat before pounding my kitchen table, causing it to shake and tremble. The sudden movement caused my guest to fall to the floor, face first so in a panic, I go to help him.
I gently sit him down across from me so I can look him in the eye while I pour my soul out since he’s the only one who will listen.
“Sorry about that, Woody. It’s just that I get so –“
With that and the thoughts running wild in my head, it becomes too much and I start to cry. I can feel the hot tears stem down my cold face.
“I f**kin’ miss her, man! I miss her so much! Life was good back then. Because I had her in it. Without her, I’m a f**king lost sheep.”
My guest gives me this look.
“I know, I know my wrestling career has taken off since then but still – f**k wrestling. My daughter is the most important thing to me.”
I reach over and grab the bottle of scotch, which is nearly empty. Rather than pouring myself another glass, I down the son of a bitch in one gulp.
I sit up and make my way to the pantry – all there's left is some Jack Daniels and vodka. Since drinking again, I’ve had everything – except vodka. I’ve avoided that s**t like the plague, so I grab the Jack Daniels instead. What used to get me drunk as a skunk now results in giving me a slight buzz. That feeling where your whole body feels like a Mardi Gras float, just hovering around like a lifeless puppet.
Vodka turns me into a f**king monster.
Ask Hawkeye and he'll gladly tell you about the time I got us all kicked out of a bar in Kuwait after I had too much to drink. Before Jenny was born, that was all I drank - vodka and I was very angry back then. Vodka only caused that anger to be unleashed with me not really giving a s**t who or what I hurt in the process. All good things come with a price, I guess.
According to Hawkeye, I got so drunk on vodka that I grabbed the ceiling fan while it was still spinning and threw it at the TV. He said that I didn't flinch when my hand was struck by the spinning blade, despite having a huge gash.
Then I grabbed a broken bottle and threw it at the poor bartender that decided to get mouthy with me and I nearly killed the guy.
Ask Hawkeye and he'll gladly tell you about the time I got us all kicked out of a bar in Kuwait after I had too much to drink. Before Jenny was born, that was all I drank - vodka and I was very angry back then. Vodka only caused that anger to be unleashed with me not really giving a s**t who or what I hurt in the process. All good things come with a price, I guess.
According to Hawkeye, I got so drunk on vodka that I grabbed the ceiling fan while it was still spinning and threw it at the TV. He said that I didn't flinch when my hand was struck by the spinning blade, despite having a huge gash.
Then I grabbed a broken bottle and threw it at the poor bartender that decided to get mouthy with me and I nearly killed the guy.
That's what he says happened but the scary part is having no recollection of that day.
With Jack in hand, I sit back down across from Woody and pour myself as well as him a glass, but he turns it down.
I chug my glass and immediately chug Woody’s. We both sit in silence as the liquid pouring into my glass is the sound that accompanies us in my dark apartment.
The Jack smacks my taste buds, causing me to smile as it goes down.
Woody just watches me act all giddy like a kid over candy.
“Hey man, thanks.”
Woody is one of few words, but I can tell that he appreciates that by the big smile on his face.
“Thanks for listening to me rant – you’re the only person I trust to talk about this s**t. You don’t judge me, you know?”
Again, Woody just sits there, taking everything in.
“And do me a favor – don’t tell anyone that I cried. Soldiers don’t cry.”
Woody continues to smile as I finish the Jack Daniels after a few glasses. Goddamn, that s**t is good.
And then, it hits me.
That Mardi Gras feeling where I feel like I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof.
My head feels heavy as I struggle to keep my balance. My vision starts to blur but I’m able to make out a small broom with a paper plate head. Its eyes and big smile were drawn in black marker, smiling as it watches me bob and weave.
Watching me from across the table.
“Cheers, Woody.”
I can feel myself start to fall before I black out, hitting my head on the kitchen floor as a result.
***
Ugh.
It feels like I slept on rocks.
The air conditioning is blasting cold air against my skin, causing me to shiver. I reach for the blanket but it’s not there, instead I feel nothing but jeans.
I open my eyes and I can’t see a thing. Just darkness all around me.
Before I realize it, I’m throwing up. It burns the back of my throat as it comes out, causing me to make unspeakable noises.
Hangovers suck.
I clear my throat as best as I can by hawking and spitting at ground to rid of the vomit taste in my mouth.
As I hawk a loogie on the ground, I realize that I’m not in my bedroom.
I’m not even in my apartment and why am I wearing sunglasses at night?
I’m outside somewhere. Once my stomach settles down, I’m able to see long metal posts, formed in rows with rebars in between for added support. Wood walls with various scribbles support the structure that I’m underneath.
I also feel something in my hands, something cold and light as a feather.
My heart drops when I see that it’s a bottle of vodka. Empty.
S**t.
I can feel my heartrate increase.
What the f**k happened?
My body aches as I attempt to stand up, the tiny rocks stabbing the bottom of my feet, not realizing that I’m barefoot. I feel sore like I worked out at the gym too hard, but I have to get home. Soldiers are trained to fight through the pain and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
In my hungover state, I nearly trip on some guy’s leg.
Wait a minute, what?
There’s a young man who’s been knocked the f**k out, lying in a pool of blood. His body is awkwardly sprawled on the cold concrete floor and there’s a big mark on his face in the shape of a fist. I don’t even notice the second body lying against a cement post in the distance. I limp my way over towards the kid.
His shirt has been ripped and he was also punched in the face except he’s bleeding more than the other guy.
I start to panic, that feeling of dread that has followed me since Dallas begins to take over. I don’t know what else to do so I run, stumbling away from the scene of my crime.
Then I hear a voice, “He's over here, officer.”
F**k!
F**k!
My knees prevent me from ducking out of dodge, but it doesn't matter because before I know it, there's two boys in blue along with a few kids, pointing at me.
Behind them is a small group of journalists, holding their phones in the air, catching me at my lowest.
The officers point their Beretta 9mms at my face which force me to wince in pain as I get down on my knees, hands behind my head.
I see the journalists start to get closer, all watching on as the resident WFWF janitor is cuffed for being drunk in public.
“You are under arrest for disorderly conduct and assault with a deadly weapon.”
My heart stops.
Assault with a deadly weapon?
Waking up hungover, I didn’t see the broken piece of wood next to the second guy. It’s smooth and the end is rounded, almost like the end of a small broom. I look down at Woody and even though he’s smiling, he’s broken in half by my feet.
I don’t resist or anything. I’d be stupid to do so.
The officers escort me towards the mob of journalists as lights from their phones flash in my face, nearly blinding me as they all shout at me – “Why did you do it, Billy?”
I plead the fifth as I’m thrown in the back of a squad car, having no recollection of what happened in that construction zone or anywhere else for that matter. I’m frozen in fear, knowing what this s**tstorm means.
It means that everyone is going to know what the hell I've been doing to myself for months now.
Jenny.
Vicky.
Sleater.
They're all going to know and that f**king terrifies me. I start to lose myself in my thoughts that are running amok inside my brain and all of them are bad.
What is Jenny going to think if she finds out?
F**k, if Vicky find outs -
If I never see Jenny again because of this -
F**k!
F**k!
As I sit in the back, alone with my thoughts my body begins to tremble. My knees begin to shake at the sense of dread that is slowly taking over. The heat is making me sweat and with my hands behind my back, I feel helpless.
And trapped.
It means that everyone is going to know what the hell I've been doing to myself for months now.
Jenny.
Vicky.
Sleater.
They're all going to know and that f**king terrifies me. I start to lose myself in my thoughts that are running amok inside my brain and all of them are bad.
What is Jenny going to think if she finds out?
F**k, if Vicky find outs -
If I never see Jenny again because of this -
F**k!
F**k!
As I sit in the back, alone with my thoughts my body begins to tremble. My knees begin to shake at the sense of dread that is slowly taking over. The heat is making me sweat and with my hands behind my back, I feel helpless.
And trapped.
I'm slapped back to reality when one of the officers enters the car, slamming the door. He turns the engine over and drives me away as the other cop stays behind to wait for reinforcements. I can see him closing off the area with the yellow police tape.
My primal side wants to fight back and break out of these cuffs but that'd be a stupid thing to do.
I can't afford to do anything stupid.
Not after tonight...
My primal side wants to fight back and break out of these cuffs but that'd be a stupid thing to do.
I can't afford to do anything stupid.
Not after tonight...
Janitor and wrestler assaults two college students in a drunken stupor
William Saturn Broom was arrested following the violent encounter
"He came in, shouting and very aggressive from the get go," said one witness who was at The King's Pub last night when well-known WFWF wrestler William Broom walked in, wielding a miniature broom in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. According to witnesses, he was already inebriated and started harassing various patrons of the established local bar. He also was reportedly talking to the mini broom. He was wearing sunglasses at night which only made his behavior all the more bizarre. Broom arrived at the pub at approximately 11:44 PM and around 12:14 AM is when Broom got into the confrontation with Roderick Freitag and Marcus Sanchez, two students from the University of Pittsburgh.
According to witnesses, the two students confronted Broom about his behavior, but Broom wasn’t having it. Broom then shoved Sanchez who responded with a shove of his own. The two men got into a fight where Freitag tried to separate the two. That’s when all three men were kicked out of the establishment by security. Some of the patrons followed the three men, recording the whole incident as they brawled down 54th Street before Broom grabbed Sanchez and threw him into a nearby construction zone. Witnesses saw the wrestler break the mini broom that he had on him over Sanchez’s head before knocking out Freitag with one punch. Broom then proceeded to drink himself unconscious. That’s when witnesses went to the police and Broom was arrested shortly after waking up from his drunken stupor.
Broom spent the night in jail before posting bail and he was released later that night. Freitag and Sanchez were hospitalized for their injuries, but their families want to press charges. When asked for a comment regarding one of their wrestlers, the WFWF refused to comment.
Edit: According to Michigan PD, Daniel Conant is an Uber driver who had a similar experience with Broom earlier in the month. According to Mr. Conant, Broom was temperamental and very rude to the young man despite Conant doing nothing to Broom. He lashed out at the driver after he tried to make conversation. When he was ordered to exit the vehicle, Broom slammed the door so hard that it shattered the window of the back seat.
In response, Conant reported Broom to Uber where they proceeded to file a claim against him where Broom must pay an undisclosed amount for the damages caused to Conant’s vehicle. Again, when the WFWF was asked for a comment, they refused.
“What has gotten into you, William?!”
I don’t know what to say to my screaming ex-wife as she paces back-and-forth in front of me. I haven't slept in hours and people have been pounding at my door all afternoon, hoping to get a comment regarding my s**tshow the other night but all I can think about is Jenny.
And how much I've embarrassed her.
Vicky is right in my face.
“You’re drinking again?!”
It feels like everything around me is starting to crumble and it's all because of me.
"I'm....I'm sorry, Vicky. I -"
"I don't want to hear your excuses! You know how embarrassing this was for me? Having to tell my parents that William is a drunk again?"
I don't have the energy or the will to fight with her. I just sit there, slumped over on my couch, feeling sorry for myself.
Vicky is breathing heavily. This is the most upset I've ever seen her. I know it's because of how I tarnished her public image but after everything that's happened, I have no right to say anything.
I did what I did and now, I have to suffer the consequences.
"Is this how you're going to act if Jennifer ever decides she wants her father back in her life?"
Something takes over my emotions.
Upon hearing her name, I begin to sob. Uncontrollably.
Vicky stops in her tracks, looking at the pathetic man in front of her.
"Oh, Jenny! Jenny baby!"
I'm bawling my eyes out, snot running down my nose.
She groans.
"You're pathetic. You're a man! You're not supposed to cry!"
I just continue to sob like some wimp in front of my ex-wife.
"I just want to see her, Vicky! That's all I want is my baby girl!"
I can barely finish my plea before the tears and emotions just make it difficult to talk but Vicky doesn't care.
"She doesn't want you though, William and quite frankly, after what you did I think that's for the best."
The dread is back, causing me to shiver in my seat. The tears stop and I look up at Vicky.
"Wha-what??"
Vicky, standing her ground, reiterates, "I don't think you should be in Jennifer's life."
I'm frozen in sheer panic.
"After this, I don't want you near her ever again!"
She dropped a bomb on me at the worst time. She heads for the door but I bolt past her, blocking the door with my body.
"Vicky! Please don't! I need her! Please!"
"No. I refuse to let Jennifer be in the company of some drunkard. I read what you did to those two kids. Will Jennifer suffer the same fate too?"
Vicky just plunged my heart with a dagger. I can myself wheezing as my knees give out, sending me crashing to the floor. Her insinuation that I would ever lay a hand on my daughter destroys me.
My self-esteem, my masculinity - everything was shattered after she said that.
"You always were weak, William."
I'm left in a heap of sorrow and despair as my body slumps forward. I'm motionless, staring off into the distance at nothing. I'm a shell of who I used to be.
I'm so weak that Vicky manages to shove me away from the door, slamming it and leaving me alone.
Next thing I know, I'm wailing like a banshee.
Tears stemming down my face and snot coming out of my nose.
I pound the floor as hard as I can.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"
The harder I punch the ground, the angrier I get causing my right hand to turn red and swell up.
"JENNY!!!!!"
I scream out her name at the top of my lungs.
"JENNY!!!! I'M SORRY!!!!"
My sadness turns into rage as I punch a hole in my wall.
And another one.
And another one.
Next thing I know, I'm picking up the table that Jenny and I used to color on together and throw it at the balcony window, the scotch tape that was holding it together being no match.
I pull the broken bookshelf down and stomp on it, breaking it into various pieces.
I grab the cushions from the couch and rip them apart, causing bits of foam to go flying.
I punch the lamp nearby and throw it on the ground until it shatters.
I grab the TV and hoist it over my head before waling outside and tossing it out the balcony, cutting the bottom of my feet in the process.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"
I punch more holes in the soft plaster walls until both hands hurt. Defeated, I slump down to the floor, overcome with emotions until there's a loud pounding at my door, probably the landlord.
Or the cops.
Either way, I'm f**ked.
"B-billy? Billy?"
I recognize the voice.
"Billy! Open up! It's Bart!"
I know it's Bart but his presence doesn't help. I know exactly why he's here.
He tries opening the door but it's locked.
"Billy?! Billy?!"
My hands are shaking but something compels me to get off my ass and open the door but I shouldn't.
I can't have Bart see me like this. See my place like this.
I unlock the door and it immediately opens, hitting me in the bridge of my nose. Enraged, I lunge towards Bart and pin him against the door.
"What do you want?"
He looks freaked out, panting in fear.
"B-b-billy, it's me -"
"I know it's you, Bart. WHAT THE F**K DO YOU WANT?!"
The skinny little twirp looks like he's about to piss his pants.
"S-s-sleater sent me. To tell you about your n-next match."
Really? The whole f**king company knows what the hell I'm going through and they still have the balls to book me in a match?!
"Does it look like I'm in any shape to wrestle? Tell Sleater no."
"Can't do t-that. She made it official already."
I grab Bart and slam him against the wall. Hard.
"TELL. HER. NO."
"Billy, w-w-what the hell?! I'm just the mess-"
"I don't care!"
"She said that i-i-if you don't wrestle at Minneapolis, she'll testify against you in c-c-court and that she'll fire you."
F**k!
F**k!
"T-t-think about your daughter, man."
Bart poked my sore spot and as a result, I slam him against the wall again.
"Don't talk about her!"
Then....I see her.
My Jenny.
My beautiful girl.
I start to panic when I realize that I have her pinned against the wall with her shirt bunched up in my hands.
A look of shock and horror on her face.
My hands start to tremble and I can feel my throat start to close, leaving me unable to breathe.
I let her go and start to to cry again. I'm howling, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY, BABY!"
I keep apologizing to her, hoping that she'll forgive me. I would never put my hands on her but I just did.
Hiding my face, just like she did at the hospital in Dallas, all I see is black.
Until I feel a hand touch my shoulder.
It startles me, causing me to jump.
"I'M SORRY!!"
I'm left confused when I see Bart instead of Jenny, holding his hands out towards me.
"Billy...it's okay.....it's okay...."
He tries calming me down but I'm hysterical.
This is how low I've sunk since Dallas.
I don't know what's real and what isn't anymore.
I'm a prisoner to my own mind and thoughts and they dictate my life.
I'm lost.
I'm afraid.
I'm nothing.
Without her.
Without my Jenny.
Now I'll probably never see her again.
I remember why I started wrestling in the first place - for her.
How much she enjoyed watching me kick ass.
How much money I've saved up for her.
How hard I've worked to make sure she has a better life than I did.
How I will go to Hell and back for her - and I did just that.
All for my baby.
There's a glimmer of hope in my mind that maybe, after everything I've caused her she still loves me.
That she doesn't hate me.
That maybe one day, she'll forgive me and talk to me again.
That's all I want.
Just to see her and hold her again.
Tell her how much I love her.
I then realize something...
Jenny wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity.
She would want me to stand up and keep fighting.
I can't give up.
I can't give up now.
I'm doing this for her and if I give up, I gave up on her.
I will never give up on my Jenny.
With a newfound sense of purpose and certainly nothing to lose, I grab Bart's tie and pull him towards me.
"Who am I facing at Minneapolis?"
Bart is so confused right now but he answers, shaking in his shoes.
"Zmey. You're facing Zmey."
Suddenly, I burst out laughing. Like a madman.
My eyes grow wide and my stomach starts to hurt.
Bart doesn't know whether to s**t or wind his watch.
"Zmey?! I'm facing....Zmey?!"
I laugh again, only harder.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of punishment or something?"
Bart looks at me, terrified but I don't care. My laughter drowns out the sounds and s**t that I'm hearing in my head until I just....stop laughing. Just like that. Like a snake, I slither towards Bart who's panicking at this point.
I get right in his face.
"You tell Sleater.....I'm going to Minneapolis and I'm taking that f**king dragon down even if it kills me....."
***
I punch the lamp nearby and throw it on the ground until it shatters.
I grab the TV and hoist it over my head before waling outside and tossing it out the balcony, cutting the bottom of my feet in the process.
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"
I punch more holes in the soft plaster walls until both hands hurt. Defeated, I slump down to the floor, overcome with emotions until there's a loud pounding at my door, probably the landlord.
Or the cops.
Either way, I'm f**ked.
"B-billy? Billy?"
I recognize the voice.
"Billy! Open up! It's Bart!"
I know it's Bart but his presence doesn't help. I know exactly why he's here.
He tries opening the door but it's locked.
"Billy?! Billy?!"
My hands are shaking but something compels me to get off my ass and open the door but I shouldn't.
I can't have Bart see me like this. See my place like this.
I unlock the door and it immediately opens, hitting me in the bridge of my nose. Enraged, I lunge towards Bart and pin him against the door.
"What do you want?"
He looks freaked out, panting in fear.
"B-b-billy, it's me -"
"I know it's you, Bart. WHAT THE F**K DO YOU WANT?!"
The skinny little twirp looks like he's about to piss his pants.
"S-s-sleater sent me. To tell you about your n-next match."
Really? The whole f**king company knows what the hell I'm going through and they still have the balls to book me in a match?!
"Does it look like I'm in any shape to wrestle? Tell Sleater no."
"Can't do t-that. She made it official already."
I grab Bart and slam him against the wall. Hard.
"TELL. HER. NO."
"Billy, w-w-what the hell?! I'm just the mess-"
"I don't care!"
"She said that i-i-if you don't wrestle at Minneapolis, she'll testify against you in c-c-court and that she'll fire you."
F**k!
F**k!
"T-t-think about your daughter, man."
Bart poked my sore spot and as a result, I slam him against the wall again.
"Don't talk about her!"
Then....I see her.
My Jenny.
My beautiful girl.
I start to panic when I realize that I have her pinned against the wall with her shirt bunched up in my hands.
A look of shock and horror on her face.
My hands start to tremble and I can feel my throat start to close, leaving me unable to breathe.
I let her go and start to to cry again. I'm howling, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY, BABY!"
I keep apologizing to her, hoping that she'll forgive me. I would never put my hands on her but I just did.
Hiding my face, just like she did at the hospital in Dallas, all I see is black.
Until I feel a hand touch my shoulder.
It startles me, causing me to jump.
"I'M SORRY!!"
I'm left confused when I see Bart instead of Jenny, holding his hands out towards me.
"Billy...it's okay.....it's okay...."
He tries calming me down but I'm hysterical.
This is how low I've sunk since Dallas.
I don't know what's real and what isn't anymore.
I'm a prisoner to my own mind and thoughts and they dictate my life.
I'm lost.
I'm afraid.
I'm nothing.
Without her.
Without my Jenny.
Now I'll probably never see her again.
I remember why I started wrestling in the first place - for her.
How much she enjoyed watching me kick ass.
How much money I've saved up for her.
How hard I've worked to make sure she has a better life than I did.
How I will go to Hell and back for her - and I did just that.
All for my baby.
There's a glimmer of hope in my mind that maybe, after everything I've caused her she still loves me.
That she doesn't hate me.
That maybe one day, she'll forgive me and talk to me again.
That's all I want.
Just to see her and hold her again.
Tell her how much I love her.
I then realize something...
Jenny wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity.
She would want me to stand up and keep fighting.
I can't give up.
I can't give up now.
I'm doing this for her and if I give up, I gave up on her.
I will never give up on my Jenny.
With a newfound sense of purpose and certainly nothing to lose, I grab Bart's tie and pull him towards me.
"Who am I facing at Minneapolis?"
Bart is so confused right now but he answers, shaking in his shoes.
"Zmey. You're facing Zmey."
Suddenly, I burst out laughing. Like a madman.
My eyes grow wide and my stomach starts to hurt.
Bart doesn't know whether to s**t or wind his watch.
"Zmey?! I'm facing....Zmey?!"
I laugh again, only harder.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of punishment or something?"
Bart looks at me, terrified but I don't care. My laughter drowns out the sounds and s**t that I'm hearing in my head until I just....stop laughing. Just like that. Like a snake, I slither towards Bart who's panicking at this point.
I get right in his face.
"You tell Sleater.....I'm going to Minneapolis and I'm taking that f**king dragon down even if it kills me....."
***
Listen up, you dragon motherf**ker.
I ain't afraid of you.
Everyone backstage shudders at the thought of having to fight The Dragon but not me.
I've seen worse things than you.
The things I saw in the service would destroy your psyche.
Break your spirit.
F**k with your head.
I've learn to compartmentalize that s**t so I can function otherwise it would consume me.
It's a battle I fight every damn day and I'm still here.
You may be bigger and you may be stronger but goddamn it, I'm tougher.
Do your worst, I dare you.
You probably look at me like some kind of joke but I'll show you, motherf**ker.
I'm going to be your toughest opponent yet because unlike Drakz, I won't run from you.
I won't flee.
I won't cower.
I'll run right towards you - and through you if I have to.
If I have to die in that ring in order to say that Billy "The Motherf**king Janitor" Broom beat Tugarin Zmey, the number one contender for the belt, Kyzer's eternal lapdog then so be it.
No matter what you do to me, I'll still get up.
I won't stay down.
The only way you'll beat me is if I leave on a stretcher.
Paralyze me.
Break my bones.
Spill my blood.
I'll still get up.
I've gone through plenty of s**t these last few days and I'm a man with nothing to lose and you know what they say about a man with nothing to lose.
They're dangerous.
There's this quote that fits the occasion - "corner a dog in a dead-end street and it will turn and bite."
I'm going to bite your head off and pick my teeth with your bones.
Sleater may think that by putting me in a match against you that I'll get scared and back off.
Well, she's wrong because at Destroy What You Enjoy - I've got a death wish.
I don't plan on walking out of there in one piece but I'll make damn sure that I take you with me.
Getting rid of the big, bad dragon of the WFWF, once and for all.
When we both get to hell, make sure you tell the devil that you got your ass kicked by a f**king janitor because at Destroy What You Enjoy, that's what's going to happen.
Even if it kills me - Zmey, you're going down. I'll make sure of it.
Everyone backstage shudders at the thought of having to fight The Dragon but not me.
I've seen worse things than you.
The things I saw in the service would destroy your psyche.
Break your spirit.
F**k with your head.
I've learn to compartmentalize that s**t so I can function otherwise it would consume me.
It's a battle I fight every damn day and I'm still here.
You may be bigger and you may be stronger but goddamn it, I'm tougher.
Do your worst, I dare you.
You probably look at me like some kind of joke but I'll show you, motherf**ker.
I'm going to be your toughest opponent yet because unlike Drakz, I won't run from you.
I won't flee.
I won't cower.
I'll run right towards you - and through you if I have to.
If I have to die in that ring in order to say that Billy "The Motherf**king Janitor" Broom beat Tugarin Zmey, the number one contender for the belt, Kyzer's eternal lapdog then so be it.
No matter what you do to me, I'll still get up.
I won't stay down.
The only way you'll beat me is if I leave on a stretcher.
Paralyze me.
Break my bones.
Spill my blood.
I'll still get up.
I've gone through plenty of s**t these last few days and I'm a man with nothing to lose and you know what they say about a man with nothing to lose.
They're dangerous.
There's this quote that fits the occasion - "corner a dog in a dead-end street and it will turn and bite."
I'm going to bite your head off and pick my teeth with your bones.
Sleater may think that by putting me in a match against you that I'll get scared and back off.
Well, she's wrong because at Destroy What You Enjoy - I've got a death wish.
I don't plan on walking out of there in one piece but I'll make damn sure that I take you with me.
Getting rid of the big, bad dragon of the WFWF, once and for all.
When we both get to hell, make sure you tell the devil that you got your ass kicked by a f**king janitor because at Destroy What You Enjoy, that's what's going to happen.
Even if it kills me - Zmey, you're going down. I'll make sure of it.