MCW Dedication - Whitecloud Memorial Tournament finals vs Rayne Young: "Reflections of a Friend"

Time’s a funny thing. One minute you’re in the spotlight having vanquished a major enemy, stood on top as leader head held high and victorious after a long battle, the next minute you’re bottom of the heap in new territory, unsure of what to do, where to go, how long you’ll last . Life isn’t predictable, neither is time and all these years later, the past is coming to bite you on the ass. Only the past isn’t quite as it seemed….

Lifting his head he looked out of the window, staring out at the passing cityscape zooming quickly like it was trying to get away from him. His reflection mirroring in the glass separating him from the outside world, shoulder length blonde hair resting over his shoulders with his piercing blue eyes staring ahead of himself, a sigh escaping his lips.

====================================

Life it seems, will fade away
Drifting further every day
Getting lost within myself
Nothing matters no one else
I have lost the will to live
Simply nothing more to give
There is nothing more for me
Need the end to set me free

Things are not what they used to be
Missing one inside of me
Deathly lost, this can't be real
Cannot stand this hell I feel
Emptiness is filing me
To the point of agony
Growing darkness taking dawn
I was me, but now He's gone

No one but me can save myself, but it's too late
Now I can't think, think why I should even try
Yesterday seems as though it never existed
Death Greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye
"Fade To Black" - Metallica

====================================

That's how he felt right now, no rhythm to the words this time, only the words themselves branding themselves into his mind, marking his subconscious for life with their meaning and poignancy. It was like a total nightmare, a living, breath horror movie where the heroes were banded together in a group escaping whatever was hunting them down and becoming stronger in their alliance to defeate this foe and then end on a happy note. Only just as the brightness and the light came within inches, the creature made a sudden and unexpected return, diving at the heroes and as they all managed to get out with their lives in the nick of time, all turned their head as one, as a collective unit to check and hoping the creature was gone with all of them free to continue their day to day business without fear, without this silent, deadly and frightening stalker creeping closer and closer, just like at the end of many horror movies. There was one problem though; they were a man down.

They made a quick headcount, checking to ensure everybody was still there, more headcounts following over and over again but the result was still the very same. One of their number was missing. Just like in the horror movies too, it was the bravest and most kind-hearted of the group who had fallen by the wayside to the beast which preyed upon them.

Whitecloud was gone.

It was early January, Dazz had partied hard with his girl Karla Kotero, dominating the Los Angeles scene as they always do having spent time in Las Vegas and San Francisco beforehand. Yep, while others rang in the New Year with a night of frivolity and either woke the next morning to go to work as always or tried to sleep off a massive hangover, Dazz and Karla were still going strong, managing to smoke the equivalent of a small forest's worth of marijuana, drink several bars dry while still managing to have the type of rampant sex they enjoyed together so damn much. Their recovery time was impressive for such a momentous binge but they still needed a day of rest and relaxation to rest their muscles. They were back in their rented suite in Vegas, made evident by the fact his black boots and her gold and black flip flops were resting on the floor near the door on top of the cream coloured carpet, the walls painted the same tone while the black leather couches and chairs stood a stark contrast to the brightness of the surroundings. A massive widescreen television stood looking blank and unwatched, silver dvd player sitting on top of it while a small white table holding a phone rested in the corner. White Gucci pants and matching jacket were strewn onto the top of one couch, a black short sleeved shirt also lay slightly crumpled on the carpet while nearby, a blue and pink Hawaiian style dress was left in a heap near a white door which was currently closed. The phone on the table began to ring loudly, echoing throughout the empty and spacious room constantly until the white door was pulled inwards towards another room, Dazz emerging from within wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist, his blonde hair shoulder length and blue eyes looking a little reddened around the edges. His cheeks and chin had the makings of stubble but those beginnings would be shortlived as he'd no doubt shave once he's seen to whoever was calling.

Deftly picking up the receiver, he held it to the right side of his face but gazed towards the room, noticing the scattered clothing which were the only mess inside this otherwise tidy apartment suite.

Hello?

He recognised the voice almost instantly but his reply nonetheless was answered by the caller stating that he was none other than "The Iceman" Eric Sailes, Motor City Wrestling's first Hall of Fame inductee and a talented athlete in his own right. He was a confident man and had an ability to command an audience, whether an arena full of wrestling fans or just the boys in the back on a drive from town to town, and was heard by everybody, his charisma oozing from every pore and demanding respect without needing to request it vocally. The way he answered though, it caused the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end and a chill to run down the spine. Dazz had never heard Eric like this before and he knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice and the almost stuttering, quivering sound he made as he spoke. Nothing could have prepared him for what his ears had been subject to.

No. Oh my God, no.

It was all he could manage to say, his thoughts and feelings as jumbled as his words felt coming out of his mouth. To say what he'd been told was a shock would be an immense understatement but it just felt too surreal to be truth. It couldn't be happening, not this, not now. This just couldn't be. The sobs on the other end of the line and the repeated line of "I don't know what to do...I just don't know what to do" summed up not only his own feelings but also drove home that this wasn't some sick joke, some twisted early April Fool's joke, this was real. As real as it could get, a realism he didn't wish to feel. Please not this, anything but this. He'd do anything to reverse this situation, anything at all. Perhaps somehow it was his fault? Maybe something he did or didn't do whether in the past, whether recently in MCW or whether during the partying to bring in 2008, if he was to blame for this shock, this sadness, this tragedy then maybe he could see if he can go back in time and set it right any way he could? It just wasn't fair, this shouldn't be happening. He stared silently and solemnly at the couch, holding the receiver in his hand lowered by his waist as he sighed. Before he realised it, the door had slightly opened again, his head raising and lifting the receiver back to his ear, hearing nothing but a long, monotonous tone that seemingly brought about the feeling of death. It was the same tone which let doctors know that the heart had stopped beating only this one was taunting him from the other end of the phoneline, mocking his sudden feelings of guilt, anger and ultimately of sadness at the news.

He dropped the phone to the ground with a thud as he stared blankly ahead, his mind empty so quickly, so suddenly. The door opened again and out stepped a beautiful looking Latina with long dark hair, big brown eyes and wearing just a white towel around her body, wondering who could have called and looking slightly worried as she instantly spotted the expression that had set upon his face.

Hon? Hey you ok? What's wrong?

He's gone Karla, he's gone.

Who's gone?

Whitecloud. He's......he's......

Her face said it all. She hasn't known Whitecloud personally but her jaw hung low, mouth wide open and eyes staring in disbelief, realising what he meant and not wanting to keep pushing for any more information. She quickly composed herself and walked barefoot across the room, wrapping her arms around her man and holding her body against his own, trying to comfort him as he attempted to hold back the tears.

Maybe a little retail therapy will help? Think that'll work?

Bless her, she was trying to help but it was extremely doubtful that buying anything by Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Versace or Armani would help him cope with the loss of a friend. That word, loss. He couldn't even bring himself to think the "D" word let alone say it out loud. Why him, why now? It didn't seem fair.....

He remembered his first meeting with Whitecloud. He was driving to the Allstate Arena in Rosemont, Illinois in his black Ford van, a few dents in the left side but he didn't mind, it was his pride and joy and it got him here and there over the years he'd had it. The thing had been in his life and was where he'd shared both good and bad memories of the road, whether it be in his pro wrestling career or in his career as the vocalist and rhythm guitarist for the heavy metal band Havok Rising, the trusty van was always reliable and readily available for a drive whether short or long. At this current moment in time he was behind the wheel and wearing his trusty black boots, blue denim jeans and a sleeveless black t-shirt with a huge "Messiah of Metal" design on the front, his merchandise selling well which certainly helped when he wore it himself. He wore black sunglasses over his eyes and a thick bushy goatee on his chin, his hair much shorter while he looked across at his passenger and smiled. The other seat was occupied by a female with long black hair that contained red highlights, a cute face that looked both nervous and focused at once. She also wore jeans, her feet adorned by white sneakers and a red t-shirt clinging to her curves, looking at the object in her hands as she held it in her lap. A black bag lay across her thighs, tempting her to reach a hand forwards and grab the zipper, slowly pulling it across the length of the material, opening it up and removing to big, bright objects from within. The first object was a championship belt with a black leather strap, gold plates on the sides of a bigger centerplate that was also coloured in red, the writing across the middle in large lettering showing that this was the Chaotic Wrestling Federation Women's championship. She smiled at it and slowly caressed the front, looking at every detail before taking out the second object, a slightly bigger championship belt. The strap was also made of black leather and it was adorned with gold and detailed carvings, raised areas of metal also upon the centreplate which stated that this was the CWF World Heavyweight championship. The gold nameplate shone and sparkled in the street lights as the van passed then, lighting up the name upon it: Faith.

Still looking at those baby?

He glanced occasionally as he drove, looking at her and smiling as she grinned at the championship belts in front of her, knowing that she had earned both of them through sheer hard work. It was June 2005 and she'd held the Women's championship since it debuted in the company on March 13th 2005 against Roxie Michaels at Shockwave. Since then she'd competed against Kira, Dana Morris and was looking set to compete against Kylie Rodriguez if she could get past the Dana rematch tonight. She also had held the World title since her shock win over her fiance Dazz on CWF Aggression back on March 27th 2005. It was his fault of course, he offered the challenge to anybody and she happened to raise his arm to her mouth and accept almost instantly, himself being lost for words as the match wa smade by the Board of Directors but the worst part was that not only did he have to beat up his fiance during what turned out to be an amazing match between the male and female of the species, his old rival Nemesis, fresh off losing that same World title to Dazz at Shockwave only weeks before, attacked the Messiah of Metal and hitting a chokeslam onto his knee after first chokeslamming Faith, allowing Faith to make the cover and defeat him. He'd felt angry at losing the title in such a way and protective because it was the most sought after and coveted championship in the world and the girl he was engaged to could be attacked at any moment and put into hospital but looking across at her, seeing her smiling face staring at her reflection in the gold, he felt nothing but pride.

Carefully she placed the belts back in the bag as he slowly pulled into the parking lot, his view through the tinted windows was of one half of the Tag Team champions, a man known at the time as Christian Cage before having to drop his stage name before a lawsuit stripped it away after years of use, reverting to his real last name of Connolly. C2 was slamming the door of a red sports car shut and holding a bag over one shoulder and pulling a small trolley behind him as he was greeted by his wife Meika and their young child. The look of love and admiration on this family's collective faces made him smile, hoping he could be like that with Faith when they're married and have a child of their own. Carefully he drove past, rolling the window down and waving a greeting to the Suntan Superman who grinned at him and returned the favour before turning back to his loved ones. Dazz found a space and pulled into it, parking and applying the handbrake with a creak before unbuckling and stepping out, Faith doing the same. They shut the doors and went to the side of the van, sliding it open and taking out a bag and a trolley each, Faith shutting and locking it for him as he turned and looked to see a big man with long dark hair approach the Connolly family, shaking their hands and smiling as he spoke words Dazz couldn't hear from that distance. After a few moments the former 3 time CWF World champion (his 4th reign would come within the next few weeks) enthusiastically nodded and then walked away from this stranger with his family in tow, no doubt making their way to the Talent Inc locker room to relax before the show.

Faith started off without him as he continued to stare at the stranger who now seemed to be walking towards the pair, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt and he couldn't help noticing that for such a huge man, he had a very warm and welcoming face. Faith stopped to look over her shoulder, wondering how close Dazz was to her and paused, seeing him standing still as this man approached with a hand extended. Dazz couldn't help but return it as they shook hands.

Ahh, Dazz, a pleasure to meet you at last, I've followed your career the last year or so and I have to say, you're a very talented man. I enjoy watching your matches.

He smiled, these words were perfectly formed and made him wonder who this man was and whether he was some crazed stalker trying to get closer to the talent at their most vulnerable as they arrived to a show.

Oh and you must be Faith, congratulations on winning the World Heavyweight title. Very first CWF Women's champion too, quite an achievement and a very tough woman, your fiance must be proud.

He'd turned his attention to Faith, who just smiled and uttered a simple thanks. He'd obviously done his reserach whoever he was.

I'm sorry, almost forgot, my name's Whitecloud. I just signed to work here, first night here.

So he was a new talent? Well that would explain the man's physique but it was odd. Normally a man of his size would either be arrogant to the point of ridicule behind his back (such was the case with Greg Hatrick in another company), very quiet and very much a loner (like one of CWF's longest serving big men Rage) or took a while to get to know before they opened up to you as a friend (Priest very much fell into that category). Yet this man was somehow different, he was very open, friendly and accommodating, trying to get to know people even before he'd had his first match in the company. This was very different and yet very refreshing to see somebody act like this without first having to be approached. This man exhuded confidence and his warmth quickly spread.

Hey Whitecloud, guess you know who I am already so.....errrr....

He couldn't think of anything to say. He wanted to avoid the cliche of asking who his first opponent was but couldn't find another channel with which to open the conversation. He was ashamed to admit this, especially since this man apparently knew about his career but until now, he'd never heard of Whitecloud before. All those fears and the shame washed away instantaneously as this larger than life character continued to smile and kicked the door of conversation right through.

Heh, don't worry about it my friend, I hope you'll find it easier to speak when we've gotten to know each other over time. It was Priest that brought me over here, we both currently run WXC together and thought we could try and match the success CWF's had with wrestlers from other companies so far by competing here ourselves, though Priest has been here since before WXC even existed and talked about how good it's been here so far.

He was right, Priest had been with the company on and off since the October before and even though he no longer owner and ran the company, Dazz still felt a sense of pride since he did after all create the company along with Lithium and Violent A over 2 years before. Now here was this man, intelligent and friendly, talking about how good this company and the people involved in it were. The fact he was genuine and honestly meant those words made Dazz feel good inside, such a rarity within this business. If only there were more people as friendly, attentive and kind-hearted as him.....

I still can't believe he's gone bro.

Priest stared ahead of himself as he rested upon the handlebars of his motorcycle, Dazz doing the same after they'd turned off the engines, making them go silent so the men could look out into the peaceful evening sky while it turned shades of orange, red and the last of the light blue began to descend from sight along with the setting sun. It was the most beautiful piece of scenery he'd known in this area of the world and he came to this quiet and serene spot to gather his thoughts, especially in times where he needed to take a moment and ponder the curiosities of life. Today, that curiosity was a question on a few people's minds, the question which even Priest had asked when he was told the news by his friend after the Messiah of Metal had taken a road trip on his custom motorcycle especially to see how he was doing. Why their friend, why was he taken away so suddenly? Dazz and Whitecloud had even talked about having a match against one another for the first time in history only 2 days before the news broke via Eric Sailes calling his hotel suite. He looked across, Priest in the same blue jeans, black boots and leather vest he sometimes wore to the ring, his eyes covered by black sunglasses while a black bandana covered his forehead. He looked every bit as tough as his on screen personality insinuated, his demeanour helping to intimidate young rookies over the years as well as being a useful tool in his mind games against more seasoned opponents. Dazz had gotten used to this man over the years, the two were considered among the top guys in the business and for that reason and because they happened to be employed by the same companies over the last 3 and a half years (Dazz even being his boss in two of those companies for a period of almost 2 years), their closeness seemingly knew no boundaries. They'd helped each other out in such a variety of ways over the years that it seemed their relationship leaned more towards friendship than business.

You know what?

He looked at Priest, wondering what he was about to say, the big man turning his head towards him to answer.

I kinda wish me and 'Cloud didn't have that personal grudge man. It's a shame he's gone and I kinda feel like I never gave the respect that I should have when he was alive.

Don't feel like that though, shit happens, you know?

Yeah but you know how I am with respect bro. Wish I'd have gotten one last time to face him in the ring and show him the respect he deserved right after, could you imagine the headlines when the mighty Whitecloud and Priest settle their differences after a history making match?

Yeah, it would've been awesome. He knows you respect him though, he knows you love him like a brother, if you get back in the ring again just dedicate it to the guy and whether you win or lose, you'll find peace at the end of it. Trust me.

I'm too busy trying to chill now though, I put my body through enough. The time away is great for me, especially on my back and knees.

He tilted his head and faced the setting sun's direction, becoming quiet. Dazz knew the big man was contemplating getting back in the ring even if he wasn't going to actually admit he'd love to. If he thought he could find himself at ease after the bickering and violent brawls he'd participated in with Whitecloud over the years it would just add to this burning desire to make peace with himself, with his inner demons and especially with Whitecloud. He'd been away from the business for months now and even then it wasn't a regular thing which meant the last time he'd been a full time and regularly competing athlete was a little over a year ago give or take a few weeks. It didn't seem right, looking at Priest and knowing he wasn't mixing it up inside a wrestling ring, showing off the pure power he possessed within him and the brawling skills which helped demolish opponents no matter how big or small. He wanted so desperately to see for one more time at least the Priest that he admired from behind the curtain, on a monitor in his locker room or from across the ring. He would do and say whatever it took to try to get MCW's Board of Directors to draw up a contract to employ Priest full time, allow him to bust his ass and get as far up the ranks as he possibly could, perhaps even become one of the many talented athletes who had won the MCW World championship so far, joining the ranks of Jacob Laymon, Rayne Young, Annie Alvarez, Alcohol Paul and even Whitecloud himself to name just a few. Wouldn't that be something?

Kick his ass for me bro.

The suddenness of these words startled him, causing him to turn his head to face the big man with a look of confusion on his face. Priest caught on quickly and explained.

Listen, the reason I'm not competing in MCW and sitting out my contract while it runs out is simple. You're facing that reason at Dedication.

This still didn't explain things. Why would Rayne Young be the reason this guy refused to show his talents and what he was capable of in an MCW ring? It didn't make sense to him, both men were talented, both had their respected fanbase and both were key players in the industry, considered amongst the finest so what could Rayne have possibly done to upset Priest so damn much?

Wait, so what's he done, pissed in your cereal? Put pink tassles on your motorcycle, what?

Priest turned his head to look at him, his sunglasses still covering his eyes but the piercing stare still managed to cut through the lenses and hit him square in the face, letting him know he didn't find it a laughing matter.

Listen man, MCW is like The Rayne Young Show, y'know? It's like he's the main guy and everybody else revolves around him, why else would he be in the finals against you?

That made no sense. The guy worked his ass off beating opponents left and right to get to this match, just like he himself did, only difference was he felt more pressure to do it because he was the General Manager of Mayhem and wasn't considered by most to still have what it took to get the job done inside a ring. Rayne in the meantime had been nothing but hardworking, having captured several championships in MCW so far and wanting to become the first winner of the Whitecloud Memorial Tournament in what he hoped to be an annual event much like the Brian Pillman shows were now tradition. To say he'd somehow cheated or found some other quick way into this match would be madness. Maybe Priest had taken too many chairshots to the head in his career? Maybe his hatred of the man was slightly irrational and a little unnecessary? Needless to say, whatever it was, he wouldn't be able to change the big man's mind so easily so let him continue feeling the way he did. There was no way he'd be getting in the middle of a feud between them, not now he'd become so close to Priest and had gotten to know Rayne a little better over the last year.

It's like this. Me and him, we never got on in UCWF or any other company we worked for, MCW was no different and because all I saw was him all over the posters, talked about in the press, shown on tv the most, it got to me man so I had to leave. I had no other choice.

It made sense though, he was a top draw and a champion during that time, of course he'd be on all that. It'd be madness not to promote the main man or woman in the company. Maybe this hatred or rivalry or whatever it was had taken its toll and was becoming some sort of warped, twisted game where each man found fault with the other somehow for their own pleasure and gain.

Dude, thing is, the guy's worked his ass off for this company, like you worked your ass off before you walked out, I can understand you disliking the guy but come on, if there was any corruption going on I'd have known about it and changed the match to be someone who never cheated to the finals. This thing's for Whitecloud, I don't think anyone would try to get cheap wins at any point in the tournament.

Well, you can only hope but trust me, watch your back and use every trick you've got in that book of yours if you need to.

It seemed odd this great man was actually talking bad about somebody, this was the first time he'd seen or heard him like this. The rivalry must be severe for this kind of emotion to come pouring out. He sighed and looked out into the now darkening skies, sighing and wondering if they were being watched from the Heavens. Something landed on his left shoulder hard, forcing him to become startled and turn to face it quickly, seeing a huge paw wrapped in leather fingerless gloves grasp his traps, following the massive tattooed arm all the way up to an even stranger sight. Priest smiling.

Do it for Whitecloud.

Don't worry man, I will.

That was a promise he intended on keeping, especially because the man had friends and fans all over, his influence bearing down upon anybody fortunate to have met him or anyone who will see the fruits of his labours in future.

====================================

The end will crush the light
And sends a message
It won't please the naked eye
Without an end there is no light
To foretell, to blind you
The law of the claw reigns on and after still

When I die, I'll cast a shadow
And I'll rise, I'll cast a shadow

I'm leaving more eyes open
I close up both of mine
For the ones that chase my life
They're looking over shoulders
Let paranoia in
Spontaneously rule them

When I die, I'll cast a shadow
And I'll rise, I'll cast a shadow
"I'll Cast A Shadow" - Pantera

====================================

There was nothing he could do but wait. If he tried anything else he may drive himself insane but then again, he couldn't think of a damn thing to do to pass time anyway. It were as if somebody had wiped his mind completely clean of any ability to think or use his imagination, unable to come up with a good way of entertaining himself until the time was right to do what was needed. He raised his left forearm, tilting it slightly to stare blankly at the gold Rolex on his wrist, the light fitting above him shining down, glinting from the gold and the glass, reflecting the light as the shining brightness distracted his gaze and obscured his view of the time. A brief tilt slightly towards him allowed him to see the expensive timepiece adorning his limb, showing that it was still only early morning. 8:07AM to be precise. Damn it was still way too early and had plenty of time to spare. He hated having nothing to do and no idea how to occupy his time, that was worse than having a lot to do and no time to do it. He allowed a deep and slow sigh to come out of his mouth, feeling his lungs deflate much like his emotions and jubilant feelings had deflated that fateful day when he was told the news. To say it devastated him would be a major understatement but now, almost 5 months on, while he still felt upset of course as anyone would, but that feeling of sadness, of hurt, it was gone. Now it was replaced by a sense of pride, a sense of joy that to some might seem cold-blooded and harsh but to him felt empowering.

Why did he feel this way? He wasn't sure, hell he wasn't sure of anything any more these days but he was totally enjoying life and living it to the fullest each and every waking hour. It were as if the death of his friend and colleague had lit a new fire under him that enabled him to draw up a list of everything he wanted to do in life for himself, for those close to him and stick to that list. Like a shopping list of sorts only he wasn't purchasing bread and milk, instead he was going over a list of things to do, places to go, people to meet. Only last week he'd gotten to visit Japan and actually sightsee rather than having to view it from the inside of a bus or plane. He'd always had to be a visitor to the Land of the Rising Sun either with his old metal band Havok Rising or as a professional wrestler with various promotions and companies over the years, this time he could take a tour of the shopping plazas, eat sushi in an authentic Japanese restaurant using chopsticks to pick his dinner off the body of a naked local (much to Karla's horror and disgust) and having his picture taken at all the landmarks and famous spots from movies and television. He also had a great snapshot of Karla dressed like a geisha and another of her in a kimono with flowery patterns all over, just how she likes. They were also lucky enough to score some tickets to a show being promoted by New Japan Pro Wrestling, enjoying the stiff chopfests and the toughness of these men and women and wondering what the folks were doing back home. Well, by that he meant back at his new home of America. He'd left Canada behind long ago when he was a teenager, travelling to San Francisco to try and find fame in the Bay Area like the heroes he looked up to and listened to growing up, bands like Metallica, Megadeth and other so-called Bay Area Bangers.

A decade later and here he was, enjoying the fame and success he'd earned for himself and felt happy to be alive. He just wished Whitecloud could enjoy it with him but somehow knew he was up there watching, looking proud and smiling down on him. He looked down at the slightly creased jacket sleeve, pulling it back down to cover his watch with the black material before looking up, staring at his reflection in the mirror. It revealed he was wearing a dark jacket, a white dress shirt with the top three buttons opened and pushed wide to show his chest and blue jeans that were cut off at the thighs by the counter in front of him, not allowing him to see any more. His blue eyes shifted and he caught a glimpse of the makings of stubble all over his cheeks and chin having not touched a razor since yesterday. His surroundings became clearer. He was in a public bathroom, various men and boys walking in, using the facilities then leaving as he stood staring at himself. His staring continued for a few minutes until he noticed a balding man wearing a grey coloured suit leaning forwards, brushing his teeth as water ran from the faucet continuously, escaping down the drain of the basin with not a second glance towards the legendary wrestler and musician standing at the basin next to him. Holding his hands out underneath a silver box, he watched as a small amount of creamy liquid poured into his palms. Once it finished he moved his hands towards the faucet and watched as it automatically began to spray water down, rubbing his hands together as the liquid made the gel like substance turn foamy and white. He washed his hands slowly, almost methodically, taking his time a she began thinking, his thoughts racing to the day before. He'd been enjoying time with Karla and were waiting for their flight home when his cell rang and he answered it, asking who was there and receiving the answer he dreaded. It was Jason Stylez.

It wasn't that he hated Stylez. It's just that, well, he barely spoke to him. See, when he started as a professional wrestler in 1999, Stylez was a main eventer in the company he made his debut in and when he disappeared from that company months later, that was the last he saw of him until the two found each other again, Jason being the World champion and looking for a new tag team partner to defend the Tag Team championships with. He answered the call of course and the two became the Fallen Angelz but they clashed so many times it was unreal to the point he had to walk out on the group and reform Chaos A.D. purely to bring some familiarity and peace. The fact that when he won the World title, Jason immediately jumped at the chance to try and take the belt from him and failing in that mission. The two had bickered, joined forces, bickered again, joined forces again ever since whether inside a wrestling ring or as business partners in Jason's ill-fated attempt to resurrect his old uWo company to take over CWF, again failing and having to close uWo's doors for good 2 months later. Then they drifted apart, never to speak again for a few years before Stylez revealed that they shared the same father, a total shock to him and, after checking it up as extensively as he could, realised that it was the truth. So their bickering was a brotherly thing and not just a clash of egos between two determined and insightful athletes and professionals? At least that brought a little more sense into their on-off rivalry rather than it being something totally out of the blue and random. He'd only just come to grips with the fact that the "New Age Degenerate" Cody Stylez was also a half-brother and that well-known hardcore star Scotty Ace was a cousin. How many more famous wrestlers was he related to that he didn't have a clue about?

Not that it mattered right now, he was too busy thinking about yesterday's phone conversation.

Hello?

Hey Dazz, it's me.

Care to elaborate? Who is "me"?

You dipshit, it's your brother man, Jason.

J, you're my half brother ok? What's up, what do you need from me now?

Hahaha, you're a real funny guy Dazz.

Seriously, what is it you need?

What makes you think I want something from ya?

Well any time you call me, which is every few fuckin' years I might add, it's always to ask me something.

Name one thing I asked you for.

Ooo, how about this time last year when you wanted to come back to the business, use me as a stepping stone to do some sort of racist gimmick purely so you could ditch me first chance you could get, have me take all the flak for the shit we say and do and you'd be walking away with a World title round your waist again. I know your bullshit.

Ok fine but excuse me, bullshit?

You know damn well, brother. You work to the top and if you can't see an easy way there, you form teams or groups to use those to get to the World title, same old Stylez bullshit you pull every time.

I haven't held a World title for years though so you're wrong.

Only because you were pushed out of contention during one of your thousands of retirements then got your ass beat by Ethan Andrews again!

Fine, fine but listen, I'm not calling to ask anything like that, something a little more personal.

What now?

I want you to come over to Texas soon as you can, we might be having a big family get together, barbeque type of thing. Cody and Scotty are coming over, I want you to come too otherwise it wouldn't be right. Bring that chick with you if you like.

Karla?

Sure.

He didn't want to of course but how could he refuse? He was being asked flat out by a family member to attend a gathering and he'd finally get a chance to see Scotty again for the first time since around mid 2004 and he'd never met Cody before, in fact he'd never seen any of Cody's matches though he'd heard of the legacy he created for himself.

Listen, J? Hope it's not any time this week because I got things to do at home then on the 20th I got a match that's real important.

Oh yeah, and what is it? Another World title shot?

No, more important. Friend of mine and an amazing wrestler, he passed away a few months back and I created this tournament and trophy in his honour, named this sunday's pay per view event Dedication for him too. I need to focus on this and not have distractions.

Oh, no that's totally cool, sounds good. Can I come watch?

Sure ok, I got some tickets for my own use so sure, one?

One? What do you think I am? More like five.

FIVE?! I already got Karla a front row seat, I can't....

Listen, do what you can ok? Something that means this much to you, I wanna be there and I want you to see your family there. You know, supporting you, cheering you on, that sorta thing.

Fine I'll see what I can do I guess but no promises.

Dazz?

Yeah?

Even if I can't make it, hell if I do even, good luck and win for the family. Got that?

Yeah I got it. What are we, the Corleones now?

A chuckling from the other end and a goodbye spoken in a Southern drawl brought the conversation to its conclusion. He flicked his phone downwards with a thumb to close it then placed it in his pocket, holding a key to switch the thing off as he saw Karla approach with two bottles of water while she wore black flip flops, tight Daisy Dukes and a red halter top, Armani sunglasses covering her big brown eyes, every male's attention fixed on this hot Latina. She held out her arms and the two gave each other a big bear hug before gently kissing each other on the lips.

Hey baby, I got some of my family wanting to sit ringside with you watching me this sunday against Rayne.

Ok.

Hope you don't mind but they want us to go to a barbeque in Texas too, meet the rest of the family, that cool with you?

Sure hon, it's not a trailer is it?

Hell no, it's a big house on an even bigger ranch.

Heh sweet, so there's gonna be a little secluded place there then?

He laughed and knew instantly what she was implying, Karla's hint bringing out a big grin from her too before the two, considered by some to be pro wrestling's hottest couple, began to make out in the depatrures lounge of the airport.

That was yesterday. Now here he was in the bathroom of Oakland International Airport staring at his own reflection and continuously washing his hands as jets of water sprayed out due to the motion sensors detecting his movements underneath. He finally decided his hands were clean enough and took them from the basin, walking a few steps towards a large white box on the wall, gripping a paper towel and pulling it down, tearing a section off and using it to dry his hands thoroughly. Perhaps too thoroughly for some but enough for him, he hated having wet hands, especially if he were in public. He didn't want people to think he'd pissed all over his hands and not bothered to wash them. He turned and found the exit, the bathroom area being open and without doors other than the green ones hanging on each cubicle. He threw the paper towels he'd used into a trash can on his way out, passing by other men walking in and coming to the main departures lounge of this particular terminal.

Light shone down from the ceiling area and from large windows that showed the outside world, the hot sun beating down upon the buildings outside and the various planes either waiting to take off or standing still on the concrete after a long flight. In front of him was a small bookstore selling autobiographies, novels and the latest magazines aswell as having chocolate, candy and chips in one section and a cooler full of soft drinks and water. The hustle and bustle of a busy airport became apparent, mostly American citizens walking deeper into the terminal looking for the baggage carousels or the exits, others walking the opposite way to take a seat and wait for them to be called onto their flight to wherever in the world they are heading. He looked to the right and turned to face that direction, taking steps as he strode down towards the end of the building. The floor underneath him stretched out into a polished sea of blue until reaching darker blue coloured carpeted areas where masses of navy coloured chairs stood in row upon row facing each other with little grey desks stood tall and proud nearby in each area with chairs between them. A woman with a red jacket and white blouse stood with her blonde hair tied up in a bun, looking to be in her late 20s as she smiled at a small gathering of people in front of a large number 94 on the wall, a large display above them all showing the message that this is Gate 94 and that a flight will depart from there at 1:45pm heading towards Montreal, Canada. He raised his eyebrows and pouted a little at this information, seemingly interested in it momentarily before turning to face more gates by large glass windows and directly ahead of him, two sets of escalators, one moving upwards to the floor he was on and one going down.A green exit sign showed that down the escalator was the way out of this terminal, out of the airport altogether and he decided to take this, standing on the corrugated metal and holding the black rubber handrail as it took him down. Gate 94 and indeed the other gates slowly disappeared from view as he turned to look ahead in the direction he was being taken in by this technology, seeing groups of people gathered inside and outside together talking and waiting. He didn't know what for but they most certainly were waiting for something or someone. Glass windows from floor to ceiling stood in black steel frames to hold them in place, glass doors opening on their own as people moved towards them. In the middle of this area stood several bags and cases, under the watchful eye of the hottest woman in the entire airport. Karla grinned from behind her sunglasses, still dressed the same as she was yesterday.

Stepping off the escalator, he marched towards her, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her around in the air, her legs swinging before being placed back on the ground. They shared another kiss as she looked at him and ran her fingers through his hair.

What was that for?

For being you, why else?

It sounded cheesy but dammit, far as he was concerned they were young, in love and made for each other whether this relationship lasted forever or for a few more months. He wasn't booged down having to try and fit in with his girlfriend's kid and become a surrogate dad like he did when he was engaged to Faith, perfect for him due to the heavy workload he had as it is without the added needs of a child. He kissed her once again, running his fingers through her long dark hair as he looked over her shoulder, not a hard task considering he was much taller but doing so nonetheless in time to see a middle aged and bald man, thick set and wearing a dark suit and tie walking towards them. He was their regular driver Scott, a man who went everywhere but vacations with the couple purely to drive them around. Dazz prodded his fingertips gently into her back and caused her to first look up at him then release her hold of his lower back to turn around and look at their driver, smiling as he took a hold of the trolley that their bags and cases were placed upon, wheeling it around to face the doors before walking towards them, the A-list duo clasping their hands together and following, her hips swaying slightly as she walked. Upon getting to the automatic doors and allowing them to open before stepping outside into the Californian sun, Scott was one step ahead of them, parking the trolley next to a large white limosine, opening the back door for them as they thanked him and climbed inside, their loyal driver shutting the door behind them as they say on the black leather seats, the interior being a mixture of red and black as they smiled and kissed again, listening to the sounds of the trunk having their travel belongings placed inside. Karla reached across, grabbing a remote control from a slot before pressing a button, the sounds of a snare drum echoing throughout the limo as "Dr Feelgood" by Motley Crue began to play, a band Karla loved which was a stark contrast to the heavier and sometimes faster songs which he preferred.

====================================
Yeah yeah
Rat-tailed Jimmy is a second hand hood
Deals out in Hollywood
Got a '65 Chevy, primered flames
Traded for some powdered goods
Jigsaw Jimmy he's runnin' a gang
But I hear he's doin' ok
Got a cozy little job selling the Mexican mob
Packages the candycane

He's the one they call Dr. Feel good
He's the one that makes ya feel all right
He's the one they call Dr. Feel good

Cops on the corner always ignore
Somebody's getting paid
Jimmy's got it wired, law's for hire
Got it made in the shade
Got a little hideaway, does business all day
But at night he'll always be found
Sellin' sugar to the sweet
People on the street
Call this Jimmy's town

He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood
He's the one that makes ya feel all right
He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood
He's gonna be your Frankenstein
I've got one thing you'll understand
(Dr. Feelgood)
he's not what you'd call a glamorous man
(Dr. Feelgood)
Got one thing that's easily understood
(Dr. Feelgood)
He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood
Oh yeah

He'll tell you he's the king
Of these barrio streets
Moving up the shangri-la
Came by his wealth as a matter of luck
Says he never broke no law
Two time loser running out of juice
Time to move out quick
Heard a rumour going round
Jimmy's going down
This time it's gonna stick

He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood
He's the one that makes ya feel all right
He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood
He's gonna be your Frankenstein

Let him soothe your soul, just take his hand
(Dr. Feelgood)
Some people call him an evil man
(Dr. Feelgood)
Let him introduce himself real good
(Dr. Feelgood)
He's the only one they call Feelgood

Guitar!

(SPOKEN) Listen to Jimmy,
Come play with Dr.Feelgood....

I've got one thing you'll understand
(Dr. Feelgood)
he's not what you'd call a glamorous man
(Dr. Feelgood)
Got one thing that's easily understood
(Dr. Feelgood)
He's the one they call Dr. Feel good
oh yeah
Dr. Feelgood (Dr. Feelgood)
Dr. Feelgood (Dr. Feelgood)
Dr. Feelgood (Dr. Feelgood)
"Dr Feelgood" - Motley Crue

====================================

The music seemed a welcome change to the other tracks he'd listened to on his iPod lately, a nice party song even if it talked about drug addiction. The title too, "Dr Feelgood", it just screamed of Whitecloud, a man who would do anything to help or say anything to calm any fears or troubles. A smile formed in the corner of his mouth, both from the thought of his friend who he was preparing to compete for and also the fact that Karla was slowly unbuttoning his shirt to plant gentle kisses all over his smooth chest and stomach, slowly moving down as, thankfully, a fade stopped any more action being seen.

After fading back in again, the limo has come to a halt outside a large white mansion type house, looking elegant and grand while also being slightly secluded behind the large walls and tall foliage around the perimeter. The limo driver Scott is shown getting out of his seat and walking around the vehicle, opening the back door as we see Dazz leaning backwards against the seat casually zipping up his dress pants while Karla pulls her dress over her thighs and makes her way out. Scott ignores this, seeming as if he's now used to this sort of activity happening between the pair regularly. Karla gives her man one final kiss and smile before leaving and walking towards the front door of this house they share, Dazz seeing a cameraman standing filming all of this and beckoning him inside the limo with a gesture of his hand, moving aside to allow room before staring into the lens.

This sunday, Dedication. A fitting name for an event, especially one with such high stakes in the main act. Dedication. I created the Whitecloud Memorial Tournament as a dedication to the big man up there watching over us, proud of the fact we've taken all the advice and help he gave us over time and turned it into success, turned it into profit so that we can not only feed our own families but those who are too poor to be able to afford a decent meal. When it comes to charity work and God given talent, MCW is where it's at. The House That Whitecloud Built. Damn right it is jerkweeds and to think any different is like saying the French are brave, courageous heroes who single handedly destroyed al-Qaeda, brought the dictatorship of Saddam Hussein crumbling into history and captured Osama bin Laden.

So why did I create this tournament? Simple reason and you'd have to be a total monkeyspank to not know if you've been watching regularly. See, Whitecloud being so damn awesome in everything he did behind the scenes as well as inside a ring helped shape and influence all of us and when he passed on, I felt the need to honour and remember him for decades to come so while we've seen the Brian Pillman Memorial Show happen once a year every summer since 1998, I figured the spring months could see something similar happen dedicated to Whitecloud only this isn't some sort of supershow where the biggest superstars take on the indy scene's finest up and comers, this is an annual tournament where MCW and perhaps more to come in future can compete for the chance to walk away with a big trophy honouring their win in a particular year. Mr Laymon decided to throw in something about a World title shot for the winner as an extra incentive or bonus but I'm not interested in winning a championship here in MCW due to my position as General Manager of Mayhem. I mean, why would I want to abuse my power and take a shot that a deserving and hard working member of the roster should have instead? Sure, I'm in the finals but purely because I want to be the man that wins the inaugural tournament, show the MCW world just why I am the Living Legend, give fans something to cheer me for other than an amazing piece of booking genius or matchmaking.

To think that I doubted myself when I was involved in that triple threat match against Seth Cage and Kirsta Lewis, totally unsure of myself since the last match I had was a losing effort in an Elevation X match in late December. I must say, both put in an extreme amount of effort and my God was it evenly matched between the three of us. The to take on Anjelica Jones, putting myself on the line and risking defeat against somebody who was so desperate to get a win cleanly in MCW she'd do absolutely anything. Constantly looking over my shoulder during a match and trying to get it over with against a top class athlete like her who refused to be put down so easily, I hadn't felt an exhilaration like that in years so Anjelica, thanks for that. I can hear her panties dropping as I speak. Yes, I am that good looking. Looks aside though, we now come to me and you Rayne, first time for everything and like your first time, I'm gonna expect this to be as short and as quick as possible. The thing about our match is, we're both evenly matched according to some but the rest say one or the other is better. My millions of fans say I can beat your ass any day of the week even when I'm having an off day, slap the piss out of you and give you a front lobotomy courtesy of my right foot. Then there are your fans and especially the MCW viewers and roster who go with what they're familiar with, choosing you over me due to the fact that I've spent the best part of 12 months either behind a desk or out on the stage or in the ring making announcements. None of these people have seen me compete until recently and even then, my performances were way under par, even if they were still ten times better than Joker could manage at his best. To think though, advancing through the tournament against what seemed to be the best MCW had to offer, watching them fall by the wayside because of a combination of them not being at their best and my abilities shining through on that night. I wouldn't have believed it if you'd said I'd be here right now but hell, here I am having trained to beat two people in one match and now I'm against just one. Maybe the third wheel got a little nervous about headlining an important show and decided to use fire to help give him a reasonable excuse to get out of competing against two major established name stars?

It's just a shame Ash Bombay isn't involved in the match, then again he screwed up big time and now he's gonna pay the price against Jacob Laymon. Just the type of person we don't want in the finals of such a tournament, I'd hate to have seen someone so idiotic and shameful win a huge match that's supposed to honour somebody who was fair and intelligent. Just means I got more of Rayne to beat up on for myself, take him on head first in our first encounter in the industry's history and possibly the only time two huge marquee stealing names go one on one. See the thing is Rayne, me and you have had to suffer the ignorance of others for years, being told our egos were too big to fit into arenas, being told our over confidence would lead to our downfall, hell I've heard people talk about you and use the word asshole in the same sentence. I'm pretty sure the same can be said for me but having worked with you as your employer the past year, I know that you're anything but. Misunderstood, that the word you'd use to describe yourself?

He moved his left to the right, looking towards the driver's seat and the view of the brick wall several feet away from the dashboard, taking a few moments to pause and reflect on his thoughts before facing the camera again.

You know what? Fuck it. This match and the reason behind it is too important and shouldn't be forgotten in a sea of ego and arrogance. The reason we're employed by this company, the reason our paychecks and contracts have the MCW logo on them is because a man worked his ass off to accommodate all of us misfits and make sure Anthony Wallace employed us all with this damn fine company. If it wasn't for him convincing people to sign us, you wouldn't be a former MCW World champion, I wouldn't be General Manager and perhaps this event and this tournament wouldn't have taken place. The fact that we were friends with the great man for years and became closer as he brought us into this company to become the tight knit organisation, this family, a band of wrestlers pulling together and helping each other from week to week, show to show, every single day of the fuckin' year. To put our own egos ahead of the reason we're competing would be the biggest dishonour we could do to the man and his memory and he was the most honourable and respectful person I've ever known in this damn business. Lets put on a hell of a show for the big man.

Dazz doesn't even allow the pleasure of seeing his cute face slowly fade out to please all the women watching on tv, instead the whole scene cuts like he'll cut through Rayne Young and prove which one of these legends is indeed the better man this sunday at Dedication and all for a man who was proud of whatever both men did inside that ring. Time to become even prouder.