____________________

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"Order, Chaos, and Bimbos."

If I were to tell you that Bronwen thought the marriage idea was just peachy keen I’d be lying to you. I could tell by the look on Bronwen’s face when I asked her that if not for us being surrounded by screaming fans, she’d a said no. Not that I can really blame her. At the time I was all caught up in the moment. I saw Bronwen still standing over the ring and couldn’t help myself. Part of me wonders how much of that was for Walsh though, to shine him on. Walsh has gained the nickname “Most Pissed off man In F1X” and I’m happy to take the credit for it. Not only did I take the Universal Title but I made him look like a bozo in the process and just to shine him on a bit, I showed him how little consequence he had on the festivities by asking Bronwen for her hand in marriage.

We can try to keep the two things separate but there’s no doubt in my mind that Walsh is already making plans to be the “ruination” of our plans. Let’s just say that there are interested parties looking into that possibility.

Nevertheless we’re faced with a new possibility. The possibility of adding more gold to the ranks of No Cash Value—exciting. Not only have the Lukas boys of High Society laid claim to a spot in the United Title match but Dryden and I also have our opportunity. Get this—so do King and Pitt. See what I’m getting at?

That’s right ladies and germs, No Cash Value will bring home the United Titles no matter what. Any one of our great teams has what it takes to bring the titles home to No Cash Value and I suppose you could say by having all of our hats in the ring we’re maximizing that opportunity. There’s only one little issue that must be settled. Superiority Complex’s Order of Chaos. See the one thing I really want to make sure of is that the Superiority Complex does not gain any more ground than the Primetime Title. These bozos don’t have the right to any more gold. They need to be taught a lesson. While their leader didn’t learn shit from his ass beating the two followers still need that lesson taught, and harshly I might add.

Especially this Lucas Knight. Yeah, the one I was wrong about. Knight--the one who sadly turns out to be just another limp dick Walsh-lackie. Little punk with the second best title running around with his little grabasses thinking he can pick and choose his fights? Yeah, he was mighty big with his goombas but I can’t help but wonder what he’ll do in the ring alone with me. You know, when the time comes that Jaxx is so broken he can’t even tag… When the Primetime Champion looks across the ring at the Universal Champion, what must go through his head? He’s not going to have the ability to cheat like a little girl for one and he sure as shit won’t have a group of lovers in the ring watching his back. Nah, more than likely the only one that’ll be watching his back will be Dryden while he waits for me to tag him in. That’s going to be the reality for Mr. Knight, he’s going to have to take on THE best in F1X and arguably wrestling as a whole. He won’t have the easy out of the long line of bum opponents. He’ll be looking across the ring at The Dirty Dog and he’s going to feel his heart sink when he’s hit with the reality of it all.

All the shit you’ve done, your “second best” title, and your precious little win streak are going to slam head on into No Cash Value. He really should have accepted my warning and stepped the fuck off but nooooo… He’s gotta be captain bimbo and end up most likely to suffer internal bleeding due to vicious NCV beat down. That’s fucken right.

Haha, Captain Bimbo, I like that. It suits.

For that to work though he’d have to have some cool surf-rock n roll band. You know what I mean, the kind where they’re wearing sailor outfits and lip synching while they pretend to play instruments. Captain Bimbo and the French Fried Posse? No. Captain Bimbo and the Slugs. That’s kind of catchy if you ask me. Let’s introduce you to the Slug himself, Nicolas Jaxx. Yeah, the guy with the mouth that’s larger than the country’s deficit. If bullshit turned to dollar bills, Jaxx would buy and sell you. Unfortunately bullshit is just that—bullshit. That is all Nicolas Jaxx is capable of and don’t even try to argue. He’s a relic of another time when somehow talking registered prowess. Before minimalism, and just a ways after wrestling went from bad actors fighting, to good actors crying.


 

 

 

DIRTY AMERICAN DREAM
"From Russia, with Love."

“That wasn’t my intention.” I stand up and grab Bronwen by the arm as she tries to leave. Her eyes widen when she turns to me and she shows her teeth.

“This is ridiculous. Let’s not even bother.” Bronwen heads for the door and I let her go. It’s pointless to try to make her stay.

I use words, “Bronwen, I had no idea that this would turn into some big blown up thing.”

“You sure as shit did.” She snaps, “Now I have to hide from the Kings and run from the bloomin Queens.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell them to fly a friggen kite?” I ask.

“I tried! I hit Lucia in the face for christ’s sake. With a trash can lid even.” Bronwen snorts, letting her hand fall onto the door knob.

I can’t help but laugh, “You hit her in the face? That’s awesome.”

I can hear a growly little chuckle come out of Bron.

“Yeah, twas quite a sight. I was shocked it didn’t bring her to her knees.” Bronwen lets go of the knob, “Thick skull—that one.”

I approach her slowly, I want to reassure her somehow but can’t seem to find the words. I lay my hand on her side, letting my fingers slide between her skin and her jeans. I tug her to me and wrap my arms around her.

“So the marriage thing was ill timed.” I whisper, “Doesn’t change the fact that we have something special between us.”

“I can feel it.” Bronwen chuckles.

“You can?”

“Unless that’s a gun you’ve got against your back.” Bronwen laughs.

“Oh.”

I’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t true. She turns around in my arms, facing me. She kisses me softly on the lips.

“That shit on the tv-in front of the world. It isn’t us.”

So in all of the years I’ve known Bronwen she’s never said “us.” It’s always been Shane and Bronwen or Bronwen and Shane. It’s never been “Us.”

“Well what is more “us”?” I ask.

“Sex, drugs, and rocknroll?” She asks.

“That’s more like it.” I snicker.

“A circus? A parade?”

“I like parades.”
“Anything but a white dress and tuxedos. Anything but that.”

She tries to move away but I tug her back by her belt loops and kiss her again. Our foreheads meet.

“The day you stick me in a tuxedo may as well be the same day I die. You know that’s not me.” I smirk, pulling her down onto my lap as I fall onto the couch.

This might be vague but there’s a kind of serene reality to the feeling of having the one you want on top of you. Yeah you might get squished by a misplaced knee but there’s something very humbling about being this close to someone I thought I’d never know… Hell… I still barely know her. I kiss her chin, lick my lips, and smile.

“You’d look ridiculous in a white gown.” I admit. “It will “Us” worthy.”

“Us.” Bronwen grabs a fist full of my hair and plants a strong kiss on me.

For moments it’s merely the silence and our muffled enjoyment.

“So I gotta know… Have you talked to Annika lately?”

“The Chick-a-Nator?” Bronwen smiles, “Maybe.” She grinds against me, “What’s it worth to you?”

“Oh, it’s worth a lot.” I say, tugging down the shoulder strap of her wifebeater.

I flip the stereo on with the remote in my other hand. “Bankrobber” by The Clash starts vibrating the walls.

“Sure you want to take such risks?” Bronwen smirks, “What would your droogs think?”

“Our droogs. Our.” I smile. “They’ll all be riding the high horse, besides, what if we die tomorrow?”

“True.” I watch her lips form words, I’m mezzed.

“But we should respect the chastity rule?” I wink.

“I’ll beat them with a shovel if they touch her.”

We kiss and my hands run up her sides.

“We’re going to get them. Get ‘em! Fuck yeah, I want them to stare Annika in the eyes when we do it.”

“Should I be worried about Annie?”

“Only if she’s not interested in an alliance but as it goes, stay out of the way, don’t get trampled. Russians know that rule better than anyone.”

“You’re on crack.” Bronwen giggles, “Macho America.”

“Damn right.” I sneer, “Fucken A Number One America. And Barack Obama’s my President now, not that republican dip shit. Now you mick fucks don’t have shit to say.”

“I’ll strap a bomb to your tiny American cock.” Bronwen kisses me.

“I’ll let you drink yourself to death.” I run my nails down her back.

“How about you eat some Hamburgers and get McBloated, fatty.” She coos.

“We’ve got all the nukes, fuck you.”

“America is obsessed with phallic objects.” Bronwen laughs, I kiss her neck.

“You’re a phallic object.” I whisper.

“Shut up.” She rips my shirt open; buttons hit the ground like loose buckshot.

There’s a knock at the door.
 

 

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"Criminal Offense."

I haven't gotten over it yet.  The thrill.  I pick up the Universal Title and feel the weight of it in my hands but it has yet set in.  Looking back at my early years in the sport, every title I held meant so much and as I went, they meant less and less.  Soon I was making a fool out of myself like Shawn Walsh, I was kicking and screaming because the titles just didn't mean anything anymore.  They were trinkets, they were nothing.  Somehow I snapped back and I saved myself before I was standing right next to Shawn Walsh, helping him ruin this sport.  I snapped out of it.  And you know what?  In doing so, I feel it again.  I feel the energy held in the title I hold.  I'm the number one wrestler in Fight One.  I am the protector of this Ring.  I am your Universal Champion.

Nah, you know what this sport needs? It needs a fucken wake up call—that’s what it needs. That’s what No Cash Value is but there are still people out there that don’t believe it. They want to point a finger at Sean Starr and say we’re weak. They want to point at Bronwen and I and say we’re too “mushy.” They want to point in any direction other than towards the Universal Title because they aren’t ready to admit that the change has already begun. This garbage wrestling they hold so dear is going to end. The days where Shawn Walsh gets ahead because he hired the right thugs and used the right referees are over. Ha. It all started with Shawn Walsh and he doesn’t even recognize it. He was high up on the hog too—good ole Walsh. He had it all. Fuck, he was there when the change began and he couldn’t even recognize it.

It won’t end with Walsh though and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. I don’t have a little group of nitwits that suckle on my tits, nah asshat, I’ve got a goddamn Army. Don’t you see the writing on the wall Walsh? Don’t you see that your little fairy dusters going down brings me a step closer to destroying you? Worry not though Walsh, there will be life after Superiority Complex. Ha. You’re like the banks reacting to the FDIC, why get so upset about something that’s ultimately going to prosper for you? Why Walsh?

Don’t answer that.

Sit back and watch me bring ORDER to CHAOS.

We're going to war.  We're drawing a line in the sand.  This "Entertainment" Walsh loves so much is going out the window.  His useless existence is going to change.  We're going to give him reason.  We're bringing him and everyone like him down.  Nicolas Jaxx and Lucas Knight will serve as early examples of the battles we're winning in this war we're waging.  No holds barred.  This is revolution.  I have the gold you want and I'm going to take the rest of it.  Only the realest in this fed will find themselves on top of the hill.  You sniveling little shit that wine and cry until you get what you want are fucking done.  This means War.  I suggest you rally your bitches and prepare for Total War cuz we're locked and loaded.  We're going to war and this is one you'll never win.  You can spout whatever cliches and cuss words you want and it's not going to change a damn thing.

We're taking our ring back.  People like Seth Dryden, Rachel Pitt, Bronwen O'Connor, THE King, and High Society that share one thing.  Talent.  That's what this has always been about and it will for all time.  No Cash Value is not a club, a bag of goons who smack bitches and live "the life."  Nah.  No Cash Value is a way of life.  One greedy little fucks like Lucas Knight and Nicolas Jaxx will never be capable of understanding.  Shits like them see the value in everything but the worth in nothing.  Green backs.  Your little bitch ass mercenaries will be bought Walsh.

I surround myself with Freedom Fighters.

 

 

 

DIRTY AMERICAN DREAM
"Full body high."

Marijuana tea fucks a guy up.  Come harvest time I always make a pot.  It tastes like shit and even worse if you throw some honey in.  It still makes me gag, drinking the shit.  I chase it with some beer to get that taste off my tongue.  At the same time it lights you up.  From your extremities all the way to your core you're on fire.  There's nothing else like it, I'll tell you that much for sure.

Bronwen's asleep inside the room and I'm out on the deck.  I'm hitting greens and soaking in the stars.

It's only twenty above but I feel like I'm running at a hundred degrees.  There's music echoing off the trees.  "Civilization."  I smile, this shit's got me knockin boots.

I never want to leave.  I'm at home maybe a day or two.  That's a life for a lamebrain.

"Can't sleep.  Need cheebs."  Bronwen says, plopping down in my lap, I throw the blanket over her and hand her the pipe.  She takes a toke.

"Sleep is the enemy."  I chuckle.

"Oh, I like sleep, and I like this cause it helps get me there."  Bronwen yawns, passing me the pipe.

"Drink some of that tea."  I say.

"Oh that, ugh, I'd regurgitate it all over you."

"Sexy."

Overhead I see the stars forming signs.  They glint and shimmer and hold the secrets.  I wrap my arms around Bron and snuggle.  Now I really don't want to go.

"What if we told 'em all to get bent and lived the quiet life?"  I ponder.

"You can hear your music for miles and you think this is the quiet life?"  Bronwen asks.

"Alaska's got plenty of room.  We aren't bothering anybody."

"You want to quit, already?"  Bronwen asks, "But we're just getting going..."

"No.  But I think about it.  But I keep it for myself, I just wondered if you thought about it..."

"If I ever knew a quiet life I'd probably never leave it."  Bronwen says, laying her head on my chest.

"Neither would I."  I mutter, soaking in the stars.  I close my eyes.

The music stops.

 

endo.