GOT BAD LUCK?

Scenes open to Dallas, Texas. There are two men talking, one has a microphone to the other man’s mouth. Apparently, there is some kind of interview taken on the street. One of the men is a regular American guy and another one is a SCW wrestler. He is wearing a gray zip up jacket with blue jeans and white sneakers. He is The Iceman…The Cherry-Killer…He is I…Glacier. Ah, how good does that sound? Definitely better than being Cherry’s bitch…which some have said I’ve been for the last few weeks or whenever Cherry became owner but at Armed and Dangerous, I plan to put that to rest. Here this little nobody asking me questions but still in my mind is mostly. It was getting more clouded as usual because tomorrow would be a Thunderstorm with possibility of lightening. I should be in San Antonio tomorrow for the show, anyway. For now? I’m stuck with dumb ass here, asking me all these questions.

Interviewer: Do you know anything about the judge being abducted a few days ago in New Jersey?

Anthony: No.

Interviewer: Do you have any possible idea who did it?

Anthony: No, listen…I don’t know who did what to the judge. He had more court cases than me coming up. Why don’t you go ask somebody else if they had any involvement in it?

Interviewer: All right, I’m sorry but what are the club you and former wrestler, Green, plan to open?

Anthony: Stoners? Ah yes, we plan to open a huge club that can be rented out for the night for a couple of hundred thousand dollars. It will be one of the best clubs ever made in California. Our staff will be the most qualified you’ll find around the States…best security guards down to the greatest bartenders. When you party at Stoners, you’ll find going to other clubs is a waste of time as they will not have the star power we will bring into the club. Hell, they will be nowhere on our level. We have several VIP areas throughout the club while the dance floor itself will be huge. Our bar will be in the center of the dance floor; created in a circular way with several bartenders at each part helping you get your poison of choice. Our rest room facilities will be nothing to sneeze at either. Top quality lighting and our janitorial staff will make sure you will be using the cleanest lavatory on the West Coast. Stoners will be the go to club for years to come.

Interviewer: How will you oversee Stoners if you will be wrestling in SCW?

Anthony: I assure you that will not be a problem. Even as spaced out as Chris Green is, he is more than capable of handling our business. We work together as a team in the ring and we have never lost a match. We were the undefeated tag team champions in UWF, we are more than able to “tag team” when it comes to opening a club. In these last few months, wrestling has been merely a hobby. Bringing pain to Greg Cherry, that’s my REAL job…ha-ha, I’m kidding…well slightly. Either way, I will be focused on Stoners. My job will be mostly hands off after the club is opened but I will drop in from time to time to make sure the operation is running smoothly. Stoners will not, I repeat, WILL NOT be affected by my wrestling career. If I thought that my wrestling career would affect my handling of Stoners in the least bit, I would not have gone through with this business decision.

Interviewer: (snickers)…couldn’t have said that for your marriage…

Anthony: What did you just say?

Interview: Uh…

BAM! A quick punch straight to the jaw and that mofo was on the floor. I wonder if people think before they say things. I jumped on him and began to hit him with a flurry of lefts and rights. On lookers were shocked and slightly terrified. They must have thought it was a mugging of sorts but there are times when you need to learn where the line is and that you should never try to cross it regardless of whom you talk to. I might not be as big in size as Silkk but I certainly known for my brawling technique. I finally got up off of the man once he started coughing up blood; I didn’t want that on my jacket. I quickly walked off and a few blocks down, I found myself in a line trying to decide whether I wanted the Angus burger or just a regular cheeseburger. I know, that’s pretty sad that I’m looking towards eating after assaulting a man over a stupid comment. Hey, what can I say? I’ve fought all my life nothing has changed.

McDonalds Employee: What would you like?

Anthony: Angus burger with bacon.

McDonalds Employee: Do you just want the burger or the combo?

Anthony: Combo.

McDonalds Employee: Drink?

Anthony: Coke.

She told me the total and I paid her. She gave me some change back but my heart skipped a beat when I heard sirens. I looked over to the right and the police car passed right by McDonalds. Shit, they are probably looking for me but I’m starving. I waited for my food, got it, and took a seat. I had a lot of things going for me, a lot of shit against me. I’m not looking towards this handicap match. No. I crouch and growl, waiting to rip the heads off of those clowns. I want to leave slashes, bruises, and blood in that ring. I wanted every blow to Grenier’s face make him regret stepping up against me in the name of Cherry. I want every submission to have Hodges screaming for Cid Turner. I wanted every slam to remind Davis who was the first blonde bad ass that was “getting the job done” while he was getting his life in order. Michaels, he might not be here but it means nothing. I looked at shit pretty simply. Here is how I look at it.

Glacier: Michaels helped me. Hell, when Grenier first broke out with the crap he’s pulling with me he came to my rescues when he didn’t have to. He helped me again and I told him I didn’t want the help. Why? I’m twenty-eight years old for Christ’s sake. I don’t need anyone fighting my fights. Now most think that without Michaels I’m a dead man. There is only Hudson to help against three men. Now when I said that most think, I used the term “think” very loosely. I’ve been doing this for the last seven years. I’ve been beaten down on; I’ve had all the odds stacked against me. Here’s one example…Mike Shadder decided to be a useless little shit and do nothing for the tournament. We didn’t win it but we beat two teams. I beat two three-men teams with a damn lesbian; if that isn’t a fucking miracle I don’t know what is. Now what are my qualifications that say I can take on three heavyweights with only the help of another guy?

How about being the undefeated tag team champion with Green, never losing a tag match in UWF while beating six of their eight hall of fame members in tag team matches? I have a pretty nice list of memorable tag team moments from Shorty to any guy who is capable of keeping up with me in the ring. Who is more than capable of keeping up with me in the ring than the SCW Champion himself? You’ll be hard pressed to find another guy. Simply said, we’ll have our way with these clowns before we even hit the ring. This is just one more step on the ladder to dragging Cherry’s ass down from the top. We could as easily push the whole ladder down and knock them all off but it’s more fun when you beat them one by one then destroy their leader. I don’t get the luxury of destroying each in singles match but this will do for now. I have yet to hear anything from them yet but I probably will when Cherry tells them to step up to the plate.

But that “plate” will look more like a disposable napkin when I walk down the ramp. There is not enough security in the world that will stop me; I’m not some small eccentric shit like Jay Gold. I’m the kind of guy who does it in one shot. I beat on whomever I have to and move on. Don’t like it? Go wrestle the curtain jerkers until you are man enough to come see me. So when “Colder Than Ice” plays, when you hear the word KC Blaze above the beat, and when you finally see the six foot seven son of a bitch ready to hand you the ass kicking of a life time…just remember…you had your chance to back out. You had your chance to not show up to the event. You were given EVERY SINGLE OPPORTUNITY including the advance of having an extra man. Remember every single thing Cherry has done to help you put me down in the ground…and then let your final thought be before the bell rings…”it wasn’t worth it”.

I had eaten a few fries through my rant and started to eat my burger. After finishing the food I got up and put the hood over my head. After throwing out the garbage, I headed out of McDonalds then got a taxi. I was back at my hotel thinking about what to do next. I had time more than enough time to kill before the show that is pretty different as I’m usually rushing. I decided doing some push-ups on the floor couldn’t hurt. I began to work out but many things ran in my mind. First and foremost, I had a handicap match. Yeah, I was beyond livid and would probably knock Grenier so hard out of the ring that he’ll be paralyzed leaving it back down to a tag team match but that isn’t the point. I knew I was right to not trust Michaels, he couldn’t even hold his job in SCW as a competitor. The more I worked out, the angrier I got at this situation and at myself for letting this spiral so out of control that it has to end at Armed and Dangerous.

Anthony: Screw Cherry…

What about Stoners? I had money riding on that and trust me; I didn’t throw chump change at it either. I’m an idiot. I let someone, who smokes weed and fuck women for the majority of his life, run the day-to-day operations of it. I might had well thrown money at Mitch Doogan to win a match…same waste, probably more entertaining. I said the usual bullshit that any owner would say when being interviewed. God knows where that interviewer is now. He’s probably down at the police station filing a report or putting it on the tabloids that I knocked his block off. This would probably bring positive publicity to the club. Think about it. “One of the owners beat the shit out of an interviewer when talking about the club.” A bunch of wannabe badass kids and women who enjoy outlaws will line up around the block just to get in. I can only imagine now how many fights will occur in the club.

Anthony: Screw Stoners…

I stopped doing push ups and began to do sit ups. I have yet to head to court about my divorce. I don’t want to, trust me. That’s not something I look forward to but I have to suck it up and go through with it. I can’t believe that stupid judge ran his mouth about being abducted; I might have to call Shorty up about it. This isn’t going the way I planned. If that interviewer asked that kind of question, that means a lot of people must think I had something to do with it. They aren’t wrong but I don’t want anyone to know shit. Hell, her lawyer might try to get a mistrial and get another judge. With that, I’m royally screwed. How would it look if that judge came out and said he was assaulted as well? It would be two different judges for one case. Then I wouldn’t have to be worried about losing my money…I’d lose my job and any respect I had. Most importantly, I’d have to see my kids grow up throw those thick cold bars. I couldn’t bare it.

Anthony: Screw it all…

I had everything to lose and barely anything to win nowadays. How does someone continue after knowing something like that? I’m trying to dig myself out of a six-foot grave that I put myself in. What made it worse is that every time I try to solve a problem in my life, here comes something else to bitch slap me right back down. I stopped and scratched my head. I could have sworn I heard some kind of noise. It was my cell phone. I got up and headed over to the end table. I took the cell phone off its charger. Flipping it open, I looked at who was calling me. It was Shorty. I could only wonder what he was calling me for. I wonder had he found out about the altercation between the interviewer and me. I wouldn’t be surprised; word of mouth is the fastest way to get information…especially if you’re in the same occupation as your buddy. I accepted the call and placed the cell phone to my ears.

Shorty: I got heat.

Anthony: …

Shorty: No you damn fool, not that kind of heat. I have the police up my ass, I mean.

Anthony: Shit.

Shorty: Yeah. Look, I’m going to need to stay low about the whole case thing. Apparently, they think I had something to do with it because I’m the only person you know that is capable of doing that…or at least that’s what they believed.

Anthony: Isn’t that racist or some shit?

Shorty: Eh…I tried it, didn’t work. You need to head back to here after Armed and Dangerous. They plan to get a warrant to search Alexis’ place and she is scared shitless, man.

Anthony: Both of you hold on until Monday, I’ll be back there to sort it all out. Later, man.

Ah shit! I thought my luck was fucked then? Now this is a certified stamp that I’m a dead man. I closed the cell phone and slowly put it back on the charger…trying to swallow all that I just heard. I might cause Shorty Jr.’s father to be put back in the slammer and without him being employed to a federation? He’ll be in there for good. I put my head in my hands and realized my back was against the wall. I don’t think anyone would forgive me for this one. Shorty wasn’t just MJ’s father and a former wrestler. This man taught many how to wrestle and was looked up to as one of the greatest black wrestlers to stepped in the ring. I wanted to fly over to New Jersey right now and punch my wife in the fucking face for causing all this shit…divorcing me and getting a lawyer who would rob me naked but at the same time I wanted to kick my own self in the ass for not being there for my family. I shook my head in disbelief as scene faded away to black.