Why am I hear? I am a general manager of the number one show on the X-Treme Wrestling Federation circuit. I am not supposed to be in the ring anymore. I am supposed to get ready for the next Anarchy show. I am supposed to be the guy that makes the matches that make the XWF fans come back for more. I’m not that guy that makes them come back. I’m not the man that they come to see, anymore. I am the man that is building the future of the company. I am the man that is supposed to make the tough decisions, make the tough matches, make the tough firings and hirings. I am not supposed to be in this ring anymore.

I am not supposed to be in the ring anymore. There is no need for me in that ring. I have already proven all that I had to prove. You look at my accolades and, guess what? There’s nothing more that I can do! How can I ever top myself? A sixteen time X-Treme champion….a Universal champion…hell, I have held every title that the X-Treme Wrestling Federation has to offer…but the World title. But I don’t have to do that, now. I already have my stay here in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation. People all over the world know me already. People already know what I have done, hell…if they didn’t…I know I have told them numerous times in my career adding on each time I got an accolade.

Heh, I remember beating Jem Williams for that title. I mean…I was so happy winning that title…holding that title…grasping that belt tightly around my body…kissing it…making it mine….making everyone know that I am one of the best wrestlers this world has ever EVER seen. Good times, great memories.

But that moment is gone and, honestly, I am not here as GM of Thursday Night Anarchy to pick fights. I am not here as GM of Thursday nights to notch one more accolade on my long list of accolades that I have already worn out in this promo…but will, probably, be mentioned over and over again by me.

Thursday nights, that were ran by me, were supposed to be for the fans. Thursday nights weren’t supposed to be Christian Connolly related, as much as I respect the Suntanned Superman. Thursday nights weren’t supposed to be a “fire sale” of a power hungry, egotistical, son of a gun that thinks he is all powerful and wants the ENTIRE X-Treme Wrestling Federation. I want to see the wrestlers succeed and have some of the wrestlers that walk through the Anarchy roster trained to be the man that I was in my day…holy shit, I sound old. But it is the truth and it is why I took the Anarchy job when Jon Brown called me up.

Do you think I wanted to be here at any pay per view anymore? Do you think I wanted to be in a match, ANY match, anymore? I never wanted this, damn it. Hell, I don’t even know when this whole thing started, between me and Brady.

You think about it, the closest thing I think I see happen is that moment where I placed a pink slip on the chest of one of the Dynasty’s members. After that, there has been a vendetta on me…a “hit” if you will. Nothing physical…nothing harmful to me…but, somehow, Brady Anderson has it in for me. Somehow, after that Brady Anderson and his mind-controllees in that little group he calls “the Dynasty”.

That, most of all, pisses me off about Brady Anderson…he’s USING a legend like Trent Gein and an up and comer like Jaymz Dante, two men that I have fought numerous times over the years, just so that he can get ahead in life…just so that he can find his way to the Universal title picture. Then, when I put Brady Anderson in a match with a huge background to it…with stipulations that will help HIM out…against STARS….against top superstars in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation today, what does he do? I’ll tell you:

“Why is Rizza putting me against these top athletes.” “Why is Rizza always putting me into these main event matches?!” “Why is Rizza doing this?!” “Why is Rizza doing that?!” “Rizza has it out for me and the Dynasty” “Whine, whine, whine.” “Bitch, bitch, bitch.” “Moan, moan, FUCKING MOAN!”

That’s all he does! That’s all I hear backstage. That’s all I hear in the ring. I don’t see him wrestle…all I see is him whining and complaining night in and night out and, when he knows he doesn’t stand a chance, he uses his brain washees to do his dirty work for him and pick up an easy win that way.

But, you hear me on this one, Brady. I am not here to get my ass beat by goons. I am not here to get jumped. I am here to settle this man to man. Just like I told Trent, I have no beef with Trent Gein or Jaymz Dante. My problem is with the head of the Dynasty, that’s the whole argument. I don’t have any problems with The Dynasty as a whole. They can just butt out of my problems, in fact…I will get to them next time around. Right now…it’s Brady Anderson.

Brady…I tried to deal with you…I tried to give you that push that you wanted. I tried to give you that big name status that I had because, quite frankly, I saw you as someone that’s kind of like me. I wanted to see if you were that man, Brady. I wanted to see if you could take the heat, if you could take the main event status night in and night out, if you could be the man that you keep telling me, the fans, the Dynasty, and…most importantly…yourself. If you could wind up taking that spotlight and shine through shinier then the shiniest diamond in the world.

You know what, Brady? I have a question for you. What was going through your mind…when that chair wrapped around your head? Besides the obvious chair that wrapped across your head, and realized that your general manager cost you a match against Centurion…had Centurion pin you uno, dos, tres. I bet it made you mad. I bet it made you angry wit me, right? I bet you were furious when Jaymz Dante stopped kissing your boo boos and Trent Gein go fetching you a fruit smoothie and then telling you the same exact thing on what happened…THE GENERAL MANAGER KNOCKED YOU THE FUCK OUT!

You know something, though? You needed that. You needed a wake up call…a ring-a-ding-ding go off in your head. You needed that spark because…quite honestly…you lost that spark ever since I got here. You lost that edge ever since I became general manager. Why is that? Is that because you focus too much on having Trent and Jaymz cover you whenever you feel scared? You’re not like that, Brady. You hear me?

I know the old Brady Anderson. I have fought him before…hell, Trent Gein knows I fought the old Brady Anderson because…well…I was a member of the “Devil’s Rejects” when I fought you, Brady. You WERE amazing. You WERE the top of your game back then. You didn’t need to hide behind anyone to do it, either. You were the man, back then, Brady Anderson.

Now, the man I am facing…hides….flees….bitches…moans…complains…whines…chickens out when the going gets tough. The man that I am facing…isn’t the Brady Anderson that I fought back in the day. The man that I am facing, if anything, is a shell of his former self. Brady Anderson, I want the former Brady Anderson. I don’t want the one that hides, bitches, and moans. I want the one that goes out there and gives it his all. I want the one that goes out there and proves to the world that he is still that main event guy, that he is still able to face the top people in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation WITHOUT being a baby about it. Brady Anderson…for me to be satisfied…I want Brady Anderson to be in that ring with me. Honestly, if I can come back…I bet you, Brady Anderson, deep down have a little bit of that old Brady Anderson left….that’s the one that I want….that’s the one I need.

You hold the key, Brady Anderson. You hold the key to the old Brady Anderson and, quite honestly, I know you have it in you…I know you have that spunk…I know you have the heart that you had back in the day. I know you have the spirit that these people know you have.

I accepted this match…not because Chronic Chris Page forced me to…it’s just because, quite honestly, I want to shut you up and save the XWF from the problem that is you, Brady, and when we get in that ring…it will be settled. I’ll see you next Sunday.

---===We Will Be Right Back===---

---===Welcome BACK to the Big Tyme===--- ---===No Smoking, please.===--- Here I am…back again.

I look at the tombstone of my dear friend Randy “Buddy” Ealson…a wrestler that, to be honest with you, had all the talent in the world. A wrestler that, to be honest with you, is one of the guys that I can clearly say could surpass me once I am done. I stand here, looking down at the grave where my friend lays in his final resting place. The rain pouring down on my head and the stone that bares the name of my great friend, almost feels like I am missing a part of myself and seeing it deep into that ground, six feet under.

Somehow, though, I am trying to picture and trying to hope that Randy would plow through the earth and give me a huge hug before telling me that I just got a two year Punk’d prank and all of those hidden cameras and Ashton Kutcher comes in and, to be honest, I’ll push him into the massive hole Randy left. But…if it’s a joke…it is a sick one…but I have a feeling it isn’t a joke…that this is real.

I miss him…and he saved me…he is in my debt forever and, now, I can not repay him for all the joy that he has given me…all of the fun that I have gotten with him…all of good times…all of the bad times…and just all of the memories that make you smile, cry, laugh, and frown. I just miss him with all my heart.

Like I said, he saved my life…he lost his life in saving mine and there’s nothing more that I can do about that. I really miss everything about him. As I kneel down in the mud on the mound that holds my friend, I place a flower on the mound and pause a little bit and close my eyes.

There, I see his smiling face…his bubbly spirit…his heart…his mind and everything about him. He really was the heart and soul of me and my family. He was a true beacon to me and my son, Eddie, and my fiance, Mia. There’s nothing that I can do to repay him for the help that he has had. There’s so many things that I wish Randy would have done…so many different places to show him…so many people to touch, just like he touched me all of those times.

He was a really good friend and I am going to miss him no matter what anyone says about him.

I continue to kneel down…my head is clearing up…I take a few deep breaths…in…out….in……out…..in…..out. My mind is completely empty. It’s quiet….very quiet. I clinch my eyes closed…thinking about him…and then I say an “Our Father.”

RIZZA: Our father…who ‘art in heaven…hallowed be thy name…thy kingdom come….thy will be done….on earth as it is in heaven….give us this day our daily bread…and forgive us our trespasses…as we forgive those who trespass against us….lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil….by the kingdom and the power are yours now and forever…amen.

I give the sign of the cross and get off of the muddy ground. I wipe the dirt from my pant legs and touch my right hand on the top of the tombstone before walking back to the car from his gravesite. All of a sudden, I feel like in any movie that deals with funerals and death and what not. It feels like the rain pounding on my head…water pouring down my hair and into my eyes…and it just seems like everything is in slow motion…from the rain, to the wind, to…,even… me walking. Just like a movie, I think. I turn, slowly of course, one more time to see my friend’s final resting place, before going into my car and driving off the grave yard site.

It’s been a while since I had time to sit and think to myself and, it’s weird, the first thing that I thought about after a long time…is the same exact thing as the LAST thing I thought about. Hell, it’s not even his birthday or anniversary or anything…I just thought about him and wanted to see his gravesite.

A gravesite that I tried to avoid going to ever since he was put into that ground. I just can’t handle death too well and especially if it deals with someone that I consider part of my family, my life, and my best friend. I mean, he was everything to me…saved my life and there’s nothing that I can to do repay that then to just live my life the way he did and all of that stuff.

It’s been a few years since I’ve seen his smiling face and see him come in every day and all of that to get his training in. I miss pushing him to the edge. I miss pushing him until he couldn’t get pushed anymore. But I pushed him…because I didn’t know what else to do with him. He was, pretty much, it. He was the man that was going to be the next me. He had all the tools, all of the heart, all of the weapons, everything to make him a great athlete, a great wrestler, a great legend like I am. He was going to be one of the best wrestlers in history, and yet….it’s nothing more then memories and dreams. Dreams that, you know, can not come true due to the events that happened on that…unfaithful day. A day, that to me, will bound to me as notorious…a day that I will never forget as long as I live, no matter when that would be…hopefully not for a loooong, loooooong, loooooooooooong, long time.

As I drive, I think about the life that Randy had. What he was hiding, what he was telling me, what he was keeping from me. The secrets, the people he “knew.” I think that because, quite frankly, he was the one who started with getting hidden training by a shaky guy. He was the one who put us into the line of fire…he was the man who did it.

But…that was the thing…he didn’t have the “smarts” outside the ring as he did inside the ring. His in-ring ability was amazing, outstanding, and everything in between those two. But the bad part is that he caught up with the wrong crowd and decided to go with them more then the pure route. I am not saying that I am perfect. I am not. No one is. But, I know what the hell to do when my friends are trying to get me to do something that’s that dangerous to do. I know when to just say no. But…still…I was there to protect me and, in turn, he stopped and protected me. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been in that box instead of him. My name would have been on that stone, not his. I owe him all the respect in the world and I hope it is a while before I see him again…God forbid, the only time I am going to see him again is if I die or….

….Riiiizzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

RIZZA: HOLY SHIT!

I jerk the wheel off to the side quickly. What the hell was that in my mirror!? I look in the rear view mirror…nothing. I check my drivers side mirror….still nothing. Then, before I can start my car up…there…hovering over the seat…is a white mist…and it vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! First I heard something, then I looked in the mirror…a face appeared…what the hell is going on!? I sit there trying to catch my breath. I never heard anything like that. It…I don’t know what the hell….what happened?

RIZZA: Shit, what’s wrong with my mind?! There’s nothing…but there was something…I don’t know what to say… never experienced that before.

I pull back from the side of the road and continue on…all of a sudden, my phone rings. I jump, still in shock about what happened. I look at the phone and exhale all my air from thinking that it’s a joke and seeing the name “MIA” on the caller ID.

RIZZA: Hello?

MIA: Babe, something happened. I don’t know what happened but something did happen.

I think the worst. Eddie’s in the hospital, kidnapped, or even worse…dead.

MIA: I heard the front door open…went down….door’s wide open…I checked everywhere…and there’s, pretty much, nooobody here. I mean, I checked EVERYWHERE! EVERY knook and cranny. EVERY cravat and every…..OH MY GOD! It felt like I was just touched! THERE’S NOBODY HERE!

Riiiiiiiiizzzzzzz!

I hear that voice again, on the phone. I don’t know why it’s saying that. I block out everything Mia’s saying…just so that I can catch that voice again…so I can hear it and recognize it…

MIA: ….So what do you think I should do?!

RIZZA: Just close the door. I’m sure it’s just the wind or something.

MIA: Yeah…the window. That’s what it is. There’s nobody here. There’s not a robber or a killer here. Ok, I’ll see you when you get here babe…love you.

RIZZA: Love you too…

Riiiiizzzzzzzzzzzz you will be safe. I will watch you.

I heard that right when I hung up! Something strange is happening to me…I don’t know what that is…but something is happening. I hope everything’s alright.