I get off of the plane; I look behind me to check to see if Bruce is right behind me. I see him, we make eye contact and we both give each other a little head nod and a smirk before I exit the plane. I just found it kind of strange and not really some sort of coincidence that we were on the same exact plane that I was on. I mean, yes it is good to meet the man. I really like talking to the man, I want to catch up. I want to figure out what he is doing ever since the last day we worked together. However, I thought he was just in Pittsburgh. I thought that maybe he backed off a little bit, settled down with his family, hang out with his friends at the bar, have some good stories to talk about…I mean, I am sure Bruce has some stories that he can say…he did, in fact, work with me when I was at the top of my game and stuff like that.

Walking through the terminal, I people watch people that are passing me up. Also, some people do recognize me…ask me for autographs…take pictures…tell me stories about how I “changed their life” or how they are my “number one fan” and STILL pretend that they aren’t the only ones who tell me this. Let’s face it…I hear it every damn time I walk out of a terminal, or in a bar, at a gathering, etcetera, etcetera.

So where are you guys from?

I ask this question about five thousand times, however…I rarely listen to what they are saying to me. Hell, I don’t think anyone who’s famous has ever stopped to have a deep conversation with their fans to get to know them more. I bet a lot more than half the wrestlers, let alone the celebrities, don’t care where these people are from they just nod their head and…

Oh yeah, that is a great place. I have been there many times. I love it there.

Gah, I hate myself for saying that. But, like I said, it is a way of life for someone as star studded as I am. I guess. But, you know, this guy…about 25 years old is about to sack me for a loss on the play if I don’t acknowledge his existence…or get out of the damn way.

Whooooa! Hold on there, chief. What’s your name?

Again, one of those…”I don’t care” moments that I keep thinking about…I mean, yeah I got his name…however, one day later I will totally forget everything that this guy said…or thought of…or told me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that there is a security guard staring me down and he notices the commotion that is happening and walks up to me with a smile on his face

This is an active terminal, gang; I am going to have to ask you to leave. Plus, I believe Mr. Rizza has some other place to go right now.

Hm…he knows me? Hell, this plan actually worked…the terminal begins to vanish of X-Treme Wrestling Federation fans following me where ever I went and there is a clearing, even though it is a slight hole but still I am able to get through. The security guard, however, is helping me through…I guess he knows that I couldn’t really take any more fans coming up to me like that. I think he knew that I needed my personal space, and stuff like that.

I exit the terminal and look around. Where Is Bruce? He said he would meet me out here. Did I miss him? I continue to look around and I find an open seat…I guess they are about to load on the next plane. Maybe if I sit here…looking at the people coming off of the plane Bruce would come out of the terminal. I grab a newspaper that I had in my back pocket and begin reading the sports page...wow, even all the way over here they are talking about Ben’s case…kind of sucks…but, hey, what do I care?

I see all of the people finally get off…the last of the few escape the terminal before that side closes and the side, where the individuals waiting in line begin to enter the plane that I just got out of. Where was Bruce? Did I miss him? I swear, there was no one that even resembled the man as I saw him on that plane.

I go up to the attendant that is behind the desk. She is giving the announcements to the passengers who are getting on to the plane and settled in. I, patiently, wait and…as usual…I don’t even give a crap at what the lady has to say about this. I see her eyes just look right at me while talking…she knows I am there…and she is, pretty much, staring a hole into my eyeballs. The announcements are over and she looks at me with a smirk on her face…a smirk that, pretty much, has to be stapled on her face unless you want to be fired type smile.

I look at her…she looks at me…I am waiting on her speaking to me…nothing is happening…nothing at all.

Um…I’m looking for someone. Can you please help me? I think you left someone on the plane.

The girl’s smile soon disappears and a confused look is plastered on her face.

A child? An elderly adult? Is everything alright?

Oh, no…nothing like that…I’m just looking for someone, is everyone off of that plane?

Yes, the crew is recommended to sweep the aisles and the bathroom just to make sure…heck, I think we double check.

Ok, look…if anyone is looking for me…can you please tell them I am at the bar at TGIFs?

Will do.

The lady smiles and nods her head as I walk out and head to the bar. Where is Bruce? Why isn’t he following me to the bar to get a few brews? This is a very stressful situation. I get to the bar…and sit next to this girl who just begins to talk loud and obnoxiously. I turn around to confront her and…

Lily?

Tyger Lily? From the XWF? What the hell are you doing here?

Who…who the hell are you, kid? Gah, my hemorrhoids are flaring up…heh…has it ever crossed your mind that hemorrhoids are on your ass but asteroids are the things that….that are in the air and will, soon, crash down and kill us all?

Um…how is your kid doing? I haven’t seen that little bugger in a long time.

My kid? How….how do you know my kid? Are you a stalker? You know, I can fight right? I can probably kick your ass right now…I can take…you…mister.

You know, I would really like to know…why are you here?

To get drunk? Hello?! Heh, come on kid…you are annoying me.

Lily, it’s me…Zach Rizza? I was with you in the XWF for a long, long time? You know what? You should come back! I mean, you would rule the XWF’s female division and take the world by storm.

Heh, nah. I’m good…I’m good.

Look at you, Lily…you’re drunk…you need the XWF…you need to unleash your anger in a different way…please, at least think about it. For me? For Rizzle Dizzle?

I nearly throw up when trying to say that…she better say yes.

I don’t know you…but…you seem like a cool dude Mr. Dizzle…I’ll think about joining the FDSWRTS whatever the hell you just said.

After a while, Lily is passed out…there’s no sign of Bruce and…I got a rental to get. I get up, tip the bartender and stammer off…off in the distance I can hear the bartender and Lily start yelling at the bartender and I just smile as I leave with my bags wondering where the hell Bruce is.

---===We Will Be Right Back===--- This isn’t me.

I don’t lose this often. I don’t take loss after loss after loss very well…I don’t take losing very well, especially to people that I know that I can take. Hell, you saw that when Famine of the fucking Vile got in my face and finger pointed at me. You saw that I still got some spunk that made me who I was in that match. That match, boys and girls, was the closest thing I got going. I took QC Thug lightly, still won. I took Hunter Ryan and whoever the hell that kid I said that was just like me that I don’t give a damn who he was.

I never would have thought that this return, at this time, under these circumstances would be this bad. I never thought that I would have problems in the ring…I never thought that I would sit here and say that I feel like I have hurt all of you. That I have hurt my fans. That I have hurt the people who were sitting there saying that I was so close to becoming the next X-Treme Wrestling Federation’s legend in this business. That I was going to be one of the greatest, I was going to be among one of the greats in this business. That I was going to be in the annals of the X-Treme Wrestling Federation’s history. But now? Now I have become a laughing stock in the XWF. That I am, now, a joke among Legends and others.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve these losses. I don’t deserve the ridicule, the jokes, that are among the locker room, the blurbs in the blogosphere, and so on and so on. I don’t deserve being the butt end of all of these jokes and, pretty much, I am going to show you that I don’t want to sit here and take it lying down anymore. This time, I mean business. This time I am going to be MY OWN MAN! AND TAKE MATTERS INTO MY HANDS! My tag match with Famine opened eyes and showed that I can’t trust anyone anymore. I mean, I used to trust damn near everyone…because they knew that I could take care of them if they backstabbed me and trusted me out of FEAR out of their lives.

But…no sense in crying over spilled milk…and spoiled spilled milk at that. What did the ad wizards set me up with this week? A tag match? That’s right…I have a TAG match. My first one since my little ditty I just explained to you all in previous statements in this promo I just did.

So, like I said, I am in a tag team matchup…now, is it with a future legend, like it was supposed to be when I teamed up with Famine? No. It’s someone who, let’s face it, I have never heard of. Hell, half of the people in the X-Treme Wrestling Federation probably have no clue as to who this guy is. I sure as hell don’t and I was once a friggin’ GM and, pretty sure, he was there when I was there. I could be wrong.

However, I sit here and have to grin and bear the facts that I have to help this dude make a name for himself. I have to help him become someone that I know…that you know…that the fans know…that my opponents know…that the front office know…that everyone knows….that this partner of mine…will AMOUNT TO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! So, I sit here and I tell you, partner, to know your role and know where you stand and, if you do that, you will get your biggest fucking win of your damn life.

Now, who are my opponents? One is someone who I have had numerous, NU-MER-OUS victories over…someone who I can, clearly state, is the weakest among the four in this ring tomorrow. And, yes, that includes my partner. Kevin Jewart, you know I am talking about you. You know that you are the weakest link in this. You know that you are going to be the one me and my partner takes out numerous times and hope that you’re in the ring…compared to your partner…

…your partner…Daniel Malcolm. The Arch Angel. Boondock fucking Saint. Whatever the hell he is this week. It won’t matter. You see, I have had numerous matches with Daniel…and even more numerous occasions where we were in the same ring or arena. Me and him came up in this business together, kind of. Hell, I think he came in before I did. And, yet, I sit here…and I call Daniel fucking Malcolm a God damned Legend.

Daniel, I have history with Legends since I have came back. Yes, I lost against Rigg and Dynamite. But I, not Famine, did not lay down. I stood there and I fought my damn nuts off trying to get the attention of Gambino and Dynamite and, even though I did not come out on top…again, not my fault, I stood there and…after I cooled off…saw the fans lining up saying “Zach took those two to the limits all himself and IF he didn’t have a partner that held him back…we would be saying that he is going to be the next legend.” Now, it’s my chance to prove myself, yet again, that I deserve to be named Legend. It’s my chance to get my name back into the running to become the thing that you, Daniel Malcolm, are. That you, Daniel Malcolm, fought…victored over…and took by force.

I will earn my spot as a legend…and if that means, Danny, getting through you and blowing you up…so be it. ---===Welcome BACK to the Big Tyme===--- ---===No Smoking, please.===---