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On the Brink of Sanity
He demanded. The fuck if I know. I responded to my reflection. Yeah, he was fucking with me again. Almost a frequent occurrence… not quite sure where we were headed this time. You used to know. You used to be the head of the table. Now you’ve let yourself become a seat, if anything. Who the fuck are you? He said, anger in his tone. Let me ask, if you’re what I see, then why aren’t we on the same page? Why are so hell bent on conquering everything? You’re filled with bloodlust. You’re me. I said, still astonished at the fact I was standing before a mirror and holding a heated conversation. You’re weak… You’re broken, and lost. You aren’t me at all. You’re something different. Somewhere along the line you quit, you became this piece of shit that looks at ME. He stated matter-of-factly. He pointed out our differences with a bone chilling truth. I was weak, and broken, and the rest of the adjectives he used to describe this shell of a former self. He had caught me off guard; a left hook to the jaw, metaphorically speaking of course. That’d be crazy otherwise. People feared you. That’s the most power you’d ever taste. That’s the greatest fucking high you would ever have. Instead, you’ve become a sappy piece of shit. Grow up you pussy. He continued, the verbal onslaught never-ending. The reflection shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, suddenly a pair of world titles sat draped across his chest. You don’t remember what it’s like to be me. You’ll never get it back, for the shear fact you’ve become lazy, and soft. He tossed the titles aside, and the mirror world shook vigorously as they hit the ground. God this was fucking crazy. I’ll tell you straight up, you‘ve been on a tear since Enigma; I’ll give you that. But your soul has been missing, you come to wrestle and that’s it. You body does the work while the rest of you happens to be away on vacation. It’s embarrassing. You’re nowhere near THAT caliber. Maybe it’s time to quit cowering behind past accomplishments. It’s time to climb out of that fucking shadow you live in… Become You again. He laughed, my resentment continuing to build with each potshot. I hated him, but his words were true. They rang clear in the crisp air, laying their heavy blows. I remained speechless, as I pulled myself from the front of the mirror. I’ve been a lot of things in my life, but nothing fit more snug than a quitter. I felt the vomit brewing in my stomach. I stepped back in front of the mirror, catching the eyes of myself, hating what I saw… But loving him at the same time. There was a void, a vast, mind numbing black hole in my soul. Everyone asked what happened to me. They all wondered where I had fallen. Drugs, pussy, stress; who the fuck knew. I didn’t. He was right… he was me. So then, what do you suggest? I asked, knowing the retort would be more irritating than anything. Find your nut sack, wherever the fuck you dropped it. He taunted, grabbing his own crotch, making his point very well known. My blood boiled, and a sucker punch to the mirror crossed my mind. Fucking crazy. You’re fucking retarded! I yelled… at the mirror. You really think you know what’s going on out here in the real world? You think you have the slightest fucking clue? I’m old news, been exposed for controversy in which I had to apologize to an audience, I‘ve become the same entity that Chris Brown finds himself in today, He threw his career away with one bad move, I did the same. My stock has become damage beyond repair for my actions in other promotions. For my lies I‘ve been embarrassed, and treated like dirt. How can I find the will to become THAT SBK with people snickering with jokes. Pointing fingers. Laughing at me every time I leave the room. You’re imaginary, there isn’t anything real about you. You know nothing! I rambled, letting my reflection know his place in my mind. Wow, about time you showed some of that rage, that hate. You’re different than the others Johnny. You don’t survive by the interactions around you. Besides those select few, you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself. That’s not a bad thing, that’s just how you work. You live off from hate and rage; You destroy things, and people. It’s about time you accepted that and quit being such a whiny bitch about a controversy of you playing Drag. Man the fuck up and move on. That’s how we did it in BLWA and THAT’s HOW WERE GOING TO HANDLE THIS! All these excuses…You’re embarrassing me. He said, continuing to taunt me, as if his words were finally breaking down whatever walls I had put up. I wanted to walk away, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let him continue to belittle me without any sort of reaction. You couldn’t do any better. I quipped, smiling at him this time, hopefully making his insides churn. I bet I could He replied. I bet I’d be twice the man you’ve become, fuck, I’d probably be four times the man you are now. Anything is better than this sniffling brat who still seems to be wet behind the ears. I’d know how to adapt, how to become better. How to laugh at the haters, Laugh at backstabbing, Laugh at R rated Pod cast. You’ve stayed the same for years, relying on your name to take you places. That rides over, coward, now you’ve become a no showing piece of shit that is a piece of meat tossed to the young lions. You’ve disgraced your name and family. He said, smiling as if he’d just conquered an empire. His words hit like the ton of bricks they were meant to be, and I reacted quickly, and justly, in my mind. My fist shattered the mirror, and glass spraying in every direction, small shards leaving cuts along my knuckles. I stared at once had been a simple full body mirror, containing the antagonistic reflection of what seemed to be my pride. Staring at the glass, and then my bloodied hand, I felt a great, long smile empower my facial features. The prick had been right the entire time, and I understood that now. Something had happened when I crushed that glass, and it sanctioned a change within me. It lit the fire that had long ago dimmed in to nothing more than a fizzled pile of ashes. Johnny Styles I muttered out loud, the smile grew larger, if that was even possible. The darkness was still there, consuming my insides, growing in to what should have always been, but my eyes were no longer dim, and soul less. They had found meaning, and they could see light years before me. Life was no longer tragic to me; it was just another object for my taking. A man once told me that a single straw... could break a mans back. But his words ring through the thin air of this cold March night. My gut tells me... that you, Azula... are that kind of man. A man that breaks under stricken pressure. A man... who no longer knows which direction, in which to travel. His breath becomes visible... Stories of hatred and pain have troubled your mind to the point of insanity. The losing side of Battles have begun to break you. Just remember... it was you who wanted this. It was you, who aligned himself with Matt Marvel. It was you who cost me the Elite Championship A chuckle breaks the brief silence. It's funny watching a bird dive face first into the ground, Bobbby. But this time... there will be no hand for your to grab. There will be no aid in your troubles. For now you must experience first hand... what it's like to be on the blunt end of a failed partnership... a failed alignment... and a failed career. Smile for the camera, Bobby. The spotlight awaits you. Cracking knuckles. Like the words of Jesus Christ... I will shine upon you with a stinging crimson glow of likes you have never seen. Blood will become your sweat... pain will become my pleasure... and you… Scoff. ... you will become a lesson learned. For I have learned the hard way... that you cannot turn a daisy into a rose... you cannot create something that isn't there. You can only erase it. You can only let it be what it was destined to be. Bobby Azula... had a destiny. Bobby Azula... was doomed for failure. Embers glow in the night sky... set off by the burning end of a burning cigarette. Stings... huh, Bobby? To know that you'll never amount up to what the magazines said you would. I dug you from the fucking ground. I placed you on a fucking pedestal. I gave you fame... fortune... I created Azula…BLWA gave birth to you. I gave you everything you've ever had, and I've taken it from you just as easy. You've defiantly picked up that cry baby shit from Matt Marvel Smoke floats towards the heavens. Truth of the matter is... You've turned your head at roads I've found myself at the end at upon many occasions, Bobby. How do you plan on explaining to me that you can walk down this one? The most dangerous of all. Rolling his neck. Simply put... you can't. And you never could. That's what separates us, Azula. That's what separates us in life... and that's what will separate us inside the Lethal Lockdown. The Boogyman is comin'. And he's coming to erase the embarrassment that he's created. You are good Bobby, don’t get me wrong, but fucking with me isn’t going to make your career look any better. It’s declining with each loss, it’s like the fucking stock market. You were once at the top, The Witness Bobby Azula, a man that stood for what was right. And never gave up. Now look … You took a dose of me, and you’re all fucked up. You trying to find a potion to get you out of these deadly tracks but nothing has happened yet. You’re looking for something to get you through and by. Not against I, Not against Johnny Styles. I understand though, you have to keep your stance strong for your partner (winks) It’s all good, kid … I can dig that shit. Trying to stand up tall even though knowing you’re going to be put down yet again. Johnny looks behind him, eyes searching around for something. He then turns back around, before digging in his pocket, pulling out his chain-linked wallet that’s attached to his jeans. Digging inside, he pulls out two bills, as he shows it into the camera. It was two ‘one hundred’ dollar bills, crisp. He ran it underneath his nose before holding it into the camera. Here yea go Kid … two hundred bucks while passing “Go”. A ‘freebie’ out of this terror that will you will witness for the fourteenth-hundred time. You should really admit the fact that your game is no longer top flight. It’s riding the curb, damn near about to crash. Better escape. While you can … He tosses the two hundred bucks to the carpeted floor, before smiling. I really don’t know what else to say about you Bobby. I mean, besides the fact of admitting defeat and the fact DOA is the face of High Impact. You and everyone else just have to live with it until we seriously erode. Fuck you and your desires … that shit doesn’t work in two-thousand and nine. It’s about one’s fate and how it can twist in an instant … like your will. You’re going to do exactly what you’ve been doing all the past times we’ve faced. Nothing. You’re desperate, Azula, and you’re prepared to throw anything in at me and try and make me scared. You’re backed into a corner and instead of thinking about what to say you ramble off anything that pops into your brain because you it is you who is ultimately scared. I’ve left you speechless and it kills you inside. It eats at your stomach and causes you to panic. When the time comes, Azula, I will have you lying on the mat covered in scars and blood and it will have been done my way. When the time comes I will embarrass you on national television much like you do on a weekly biases to the Christian community. Styles looks at the shattered glass on the floor. You will never beat me Azula, not alone and not inside the Lethal Lockdown Match. You will never beat me. You will never beat me. Do you want me to say it anymore, Azula? Do I need to say it in French? Vous ne me battrez jamais. Do I need to say it in Ethiopian? Click click click click click click. In any language it all remains the same. Ask anyone in the locker room. They know my dominance and your lack of it. They all know how I kill it every time I enter the ring. I’m the Strike Back Kid for a reason. It’s not just something clever to make money. It’s a fact that, since I’m bigger than this industry, nothing will stop me. That includes your ‘Religious’ ass. He begins to kick the glass under his feet Shattered pieces…The same way I shall leave the three Modern Marvels. The same way I shall leave Dragon Demonico. He shakes his head Do you still feel as though your doing the right thing Double D? Do you still believe that coming to the aid of Modern Marvels was the smartest thing to have done? Or has the truth finally set in, and you know realize your actions have left you fucked and ready to be exposed? Runs his hand through his hair Double D, I’ve done more in and for this business than you can ever imagine. I’ve beaten the life out of more people than you can face. I’ve destroyed careers quicker than you can acknowledge a pussy that’s right in front of your face. And you believe you joined the right team? Smirk Its funny really I remember you from the mid-card, Double D. Now look at you… you’re all grown up in the main event. You must feel really special right about now. You’re wearing the big boy pants now. It’s just so tragic that in your first main event in probably forever you’re going to be brutally embarrassed. Expect tragedy, Bobby. I have one thing on my mind and if you get in the way between the bullet and the target you will die. The bullet will tear through your chest without remorse. It will go straight through your heart and end any future you ever planned.. It will exit through your back and splatter blood onto the target. Then, dear Double D, what will you do when your blood is all over the hands of Matt Marvel? Who will explain to the world that you were trying to save a dead man’s life? You can have those be Matt Marvel’s last words. Right Matt He rips the frame of the mirror off the wall. Now, I know what you’re going to say. ‘We’ve all heard this before’ and whatever you usually say. So go ahead Matt. Say that a month ago you were driving my head into the mat at tying me up in knots. Say that you beat me in your own environment last month. Say that you’re better than me and how I’ll never be able to beat you. Fact is, Matt, I’m not even champion and people are talking about me more than they are you. You don’t find that a bit… sad? You’re nothing in HIW, Matt, and that brings a frown to my face. You have officially made the federation I brought up from the ground absolutely meaningless. Last year when no one was talking about HIW I took it from the ground and brought life to it. Win after win and main event after main event, the name HIW was synonymous with SBK. HIW was known for its fulfilling pay per views and its action packed Vital Sign’s that were headlined by their champion. Now when you turn on HIW you see the former champion but where is the real champion? Being just Matt Marvel. Because that is what you are, right? You’re just Matt Marvel. You don’t have nicknames or agendas. You just go out and fight, right? That is exactly what is killing HIW. That is the main reason why HIW is shaking with you at the top. You don’t have any charisma, excitement, or confidence. You go and give the ‘fans’ the fight of your life and you walk away whether you win or you lose. I’ve been telling you this for months and you don’t want to hear it. I’ve been telling you for months that you don’t have the skill to do what I did. I’ve been telling you for months that when the smoke clears and I’ll be the one responsible for the death of you and your Boy band. The war that was started by the ruler will be ended by the ruler. A chuckle It’s been going on for too long, Matt. It has been the last thing people still bring up; the fact that on two occasions I haven’t been able to get the better of you. Not anymore, Matt. After the Lethal Lockdown I will bloody you, once again, and I will rid HIW of the Modern Marvels. It will be the longest three seconds of your life. Your heart will wrench and your soul will cry. Your blood will boil as it falls from your face and down to the mat. The weight of the world will be laying on your chest and once the three seconds ends and the bell rings you will awake from your nightmare. Above you will be standing the man who you will know as the executioner. Bring your team, Matt, bring the pride of Boston, bring your trophy lady. Bring everything you have because this IS THE FINAL BATTLE. This is the Battle that kills Matt Marvel, Bobby Azula, and Double D. Your two ‘partners’ will not stop me from destroying you and everything you stand for. You disgust me and you bring nothing but death to this company. It will all be over after are bodies are broken, laying inside the Steel that is Lethal Lockdown. The war isn’t a game this time Matt. It is reality. Reality that you fail to see. Reality that your beloved ‘Modern Marvels’ shields from you each and every week you actually decide to show your face. After the war, Matt, there will be nothing left. -- FIN -- |