Steve
the EX-QUEEN of FW~!
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-01-02 AT 09:35 PM (EDT)](FADE-IN: Mark Windham sits under an empty shelf in his house, hair pulled back in a ponytail, looking strangely enough for Windham, at peace. For a man who’s seen too much in life, he wears surprise on his sleeve.)
"I’m a win away from a title shot.
This can’t be real. I’m dreaming, that’s all there is to it. The freak of the CSWA being led towards acceptance? Somebody must be playing a joke on me.
A top contenders match just means, my number has finally been called by Merritt. I’ve been trying so hard to rid myself of the demons of yesterday, but it seems being deemed marketable, today, is all it took. I’ve always wondered when I would know, hands down know, that I had full range of sanity again. Clearly, Primetime is it. I’m being pushed to the front of the line. Wow.
I’m having a moment, and Eddy I’m glad you can share it with me. I can’t think of anybody I’d rather go through this with. Look, I’m not scared, I don’t need my hand held, I’m just saying you’re the type of guy that ten years from now I’ll be proud that you were in the picture with me. Why? Because you’ll serve as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
I know you don’t understand what I’m saying, so allow me to talk for my own benefit. There’s no reason to pretend. What I have to say, what I always have to say, is constantly above your head. I’m okay with that...are you? Yeah, I knew you would be.
I’m still a little giddy here, so forgive me if I ramble. I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I don’t give a crap about this title.
If Merritt were smart, he’d pull me out of this match in an hour. Win, lose, microphone to the head, if I had more sense I’d be embarrassed at just how little it means to me. Oh I know Eddy, you’ve heard the “I don’t care if I win or lose” speech before. It’s overdone. I’m sick of it too. Men, women, midgets using it to save potential face. “Oh I don’t really want to win.” And then after everything but the kitchen sink helps out with the pin, that arm jumps in the air quicker than it can be raised. Eddy, this belt has been pissed on once. And if I were to win, I just might do the same. Winning the title, or just getting the honor or wrestling for it, would make me like every other disgruntled worker in America, having to smile and tell a room full of people that he or she could never dream of anything more, when accepting the Employee of the month award. I’ve got the mantle space, I just doubt I can find the effort to hang the ‘value’ of my life’s work on the wall.
You’re a liar Eddy. You live a lie, you breath lies, your whole existence is a series of sprints from the truth. Don’t be ashamed, I mean as far as liars go you’re at the top of the pack. But that’s the deal. I once was the liar. Look in the stall, Eddy. Can you see it?
Windham wuz here.
Not the most artistic thing in the world, but I’m glad its there. I’m thrilled you’re at Primetime because Eddy, I once was like you.
The man, the myth, the lies. Hmm. The first one is a good starting point.
“I’m happy Hornet is number one.”
You and I both know the US title breeds nothing but contempt. He was my best friend, and I was happy for him. But after year two, watching that back got a bit stale. Should I tell you how many times I laid at wake at night dreaming of the ways I could kill him? I had more than my share, but thou always covets what another man has. I wanted that title. I could taste that title. I use to pray Hornet got conceited enough to go to a town and offer an open challenge.
“I can lick any man in the house.”
Make no mistake, I would have jumped in, and taken his share too. So, no, Mark Windham was never happy playing second fiddle.
“I loved my wife more than I loved myself.”
I hated myself. And Eddy, its hard to really say you love your wife when you’re bedding two new women at every stop on tour. But it was fun, much like I imagine you’re having fun now.
“I’m not in it for the money.”
Do I really need to talk about this one? It’s never enough, is it Eddy? Keep earning, keep spending, I’m guessing you’re too dumb to know there’s no way off that merry-go-round.
Everything I was then was centered on that title. My hopes, my fears, the hatred of myself and others. That one belt, could have either cured me, or been the end of me.
The story has already been written. We all know it was the end of me. I lost the title, to my best friend no less, and suddenly for the next four years all I could do was stay awake at night and dream of ways to kill myself. Not literally. But I drove into a cave, and found darkness was my only friend, a friend kind enough to take my mind.
I couldn’t get out of the cave, and for that I lost everything. My friends, my wife and kid, my career, they all deserted me. Or, maybe I deserted them. I take the blame. Jewels should have left me a long time ago, so corrupted as she may be, good for her. My career wasn’t worth saving, not when all it did was put a knife in my hand to one day drive through Hornet’s heart. He’s no angel, but I’d be a fool to be mad at somebody, when I wasn’t there.
When everything you’ve used to get out of the rabbit’s hole has only pushed you deeper in sin, you’re choices of survival are slim and none. There’s only way actually. When I couldn’t see, I begged for light to shine down on my horrid life, and when I no longer had the strength to lie to myself, I searched for and found the truth.
The Mark Windham you might have actually feared to face was buried long ago. He’s a memory I use as a call to arms. I go by the grave daily, pay my respects, then throw another round of dirt over the cold body.
I am the truth Eddy. I’m one of, if not the only awakened soul in this dark place. I like that. I want to work with that.
That belt means nothing. But it’s this moment that’s a platform I had to reach to be considered whole. I’m here. A step away from a goal that killed the old Windham. I can taste that title. And all I want, is to spit it right out.
Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not planning on throwing any matches. I need to win. I’m going to try to win. Why? Because this place needs to hear the truth. I’m not going to piss on the belt. But, I am going to throw it over my shoulder and start anew. The belt reeks of the stench of darkened, smoke-filled rooms, it’s covered with the grease of broken men, and lost souls. I’m going to try to win, because this place needs to be able to breath.
Fourteen years ago it meant something. Like most things in the world, it was born of good intentions. But each man that’s worn it has darkened it a little more. It’s time for a rebirth. I imagine even Chad knows that. I imagine that’s why the freak’s number was called.
I’m not a hero. Hell, I’m not even a great man. I still get urges to crawl in my grave, and sleep with my old ways. That’s going to be part of the fun. Now that I’m close, will the Lost Soul fall? I’m brave enough to walk down that path, because I know the other road is only worse.
The belt itself means nothing to me. But I’ll wear it because the CSWA needs an awakening, much like I once did.
Primetime Eddy, I’m pushing you further into the dark."
(Fade-out)
"I’m a win away from a title shot.
This can’t be real. I’m dreaming, that’s all there is to it. The freak of the CSWA being led towards acceptance? Somebody must be playing a joke on me.
A top contenders match just means, my number has finally been called by Merritt. I’ve been trying so hard to rid myself of the demons of yesterday, but it seems being deemed marketable, today, is all it took. I’ve always wondered when I would know, hands down know, that I had full range of sanity again. Clearly, Primetime is it. I’m being pushed to the front of the line. Wow.
I’m having a moment, and Eddy I’m glad you can share it with me. I can’t think of anybody I’d rather go through this with. Look, I’m not scared, I don’t need my hand held, I’m just saying you’re the type of guy that ten years from now I’ll be proud that you were in the picture with me. Why? Because you’ll serve as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
I know you don’t understand what I’m saying, so allow me to talk for my own benefit. There’s no reason to pretend. What I have to say, what I always have to say, is constantly above your head. I’m okay with that...are you? Yeah, I knew you would be.
I’m still a little giddy here, so forgive me if I ramble. I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I don’t give a crap about this title.
If Merritt were smart, he’d pull me out of this match in an hour. Win, lose, microphone to the head, if I had more sense I’d be embarrassed at just how little it means to me. Oh I know Eddy, you’ve heard the “I don’t care if I win or lose” speech before. It’s overdone. I’m sick of it too. Men, women, midgets using it to save potential face. “Oh I don’t really want to win.” And then after everything but the kitchen sink helps out with the pin, that arm jumps in the air quicker than it can be raised. Eddy, this belt has been pissed on once. And if I were to win, I just might do the same. Winning the title, or just getting the honor or wrestling for it, would make me like every other disgruntled worker in America, having to smile and tell a room full of people that he or she could never dream of anything more, when accepting the Employee of the month award. I’ve got the mantle space, I just doubt I can find the effort to hang the ‘value’ of my life’s work on the wall.
You’re a liar Eddy. You live a lie, you breath lies, your whole existence is a series of sprints from the truth. Don’t be ashamed, I mean as far as liars go you’re at the top of the pack. But that’s the deal. I once was the liar. Look in the stall, Eddy. Can you see it?
Windham wuz here.
Not the most artistic thing in the world, but I’m glad its there. I’m thrilled you’re at Primetime because Eddy, I once was like you.
The man, the myth, the lies. Hmm. The first one is a good starting point.
“I’m happy Hornet is number one.”
You and I both know the US title breeds nothing but contempt. He was my best friend, and I was happy for him. But after year two, watching that back got a bit stale. Should I tell you how many times I laid at wake at night dreaming of the ways I could kill him? I had more than my share, but thou always covets what another man has. I wanted that title. I could taste that title. I use to pray Hornet got conceited enough to go to a town and offer an open challenge.
“I can lick any man in the house.”
Make no mistake, I would have jumped in, and taken his share too. So, no, Mark Windham was never happy playing second fiddle.
“I loved my wife more than I loved myself.”
I hated myself. And Eddy, its hard to really say you love your wife when you’re bedding two new women at every stop on tour. But it was fun, much like I imagine you’re having fun now.
“I’m not in it for the money.”
Do I really need to talk about this one? It’s never enough, is it Eddy? Keep earning, keep spending, I’m guessing you’re too dumb to know there’s no way off that merry-go-round.
Everything I was then was centered on that title. My hopes, my fears, the hatred of myself and others. That one belt, could have either cured me, or been the end of me.
The story has already been written. We all know it was the end of me. I lost the title, to my best friend no less, and suddenly for the next four years all I could do was stay awake at night and dream of ways to kill myself. Not literally. But I drove into a cave, and found darkness was my only friend, a friend kind enough to take my mind.
I couldn’t get out of the cave, and for that I lost everything. My friends, my wife and kid, my career, they all deserted me. Or, maybe I deserted them. I take the blame. Jewels should have left me a long time ago, so corrupted as she may be, good for her. My career wasn’t worth saving, not when all it did was put a knife in my hand to one day drive through Hornet’s heart. He’s no angel, but I’d be a fool to be mad at somebody, when I wasn’t there.
When everything you’ve used to get out of the rabbit’s hole has only pushed you deeper in sin, you’re choices of survival are slim and none. There’s only way actually. When I couldn’t see, I begged for light to shine down on my horrid life, and when I no longer had the strength to lie to myself, I searched for and found the truth.
The Mark Windham you might have actually feared to face was buried long ago. He’s a memory I use as a call to arms. I go by the grave daily, pay my respects, then throw another round of dirt over the cold body.
I am the truth Eddy. I’m one of, if not the only awakened soul in this dark place. I like that. I want to work with that.
That belt means nothing. But it’s this moment that’s a platform I had to reach to be considered whole. I’m here. A step away from a goal that killed the old Windham. I can taste that title. And all I want, is to spit it right out.
Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not planning on throwing any matches. I need to win. I’m going to try to win. Why? Because this place needs to hear the truth. I’m not going to piss on the belt. But, I am going to throw it over my shoulder and start anew. The belt reeks of the stench of darkened, smoke-filled rooms, it’s covered with the grease of broken men, and lost souls. I’m going to try to win, because this place needs to be able to breath.
Fourteen years ago it meant something. Like most things in the world, it was born of good intentions. But each man that’s worn it has darkened it a little more. It’s time for a rebirth. I imagine even Chad knows that. I imagine that’s why the freak’s number was called.
I’m not a hero. Hell, I’m not even a great man. I still get urges to crawl in my grave, and sleep with my old ways. That’s going to be part of the fun. Now that I’m close, will the Lost Soul fall? I’m brave enough to walk down that path, because I know the other road is only worse.
The belt itself means nothing to me. But I’ll wear it because the CSWA needs an awakening, much like I once did.
Primetime Eddy, I’m pushing you further into the dark."
(Fade-out)
