____________________

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"We run this Show."

I would love to tell you guys about the star studded completely awesome all No Cash Value main event at Aftershock.  Unfortunately one third of that little party didn't make it to the show and it is thanks to hire guns, mercenaries.  That's right.  The Gentleman's Club.  These two Gents, Calvin Pierce and Adam Moore are obviously no strangers to this game but they're under the impression that this is some kind of job.  Yea, it's a job to Daniel Jacobson and Nigella Helms-King but to guys like Shane Clemmens, Seth Dryden, Johnny Lukas, and Brett Lukas, this shit goes far beyond job to life.  Pierce and Stone think they can waltz in from some European spy spoof and take shit over by doing a job, where they pick up a pay check?  Sorry pal.  I would claw my own brains out if I were to allow two jerkoffs like you to steal F1X.

Pierce is the best of the two, there's no doubt.  He wants to marginalize Seth and I and definitely look down his nose at Johnny and Brett and that's fine.  He can do that.  He can figure us for potheads and over look us.  What he's not thinking about is the fact that he's not fooling anyone with his chicken shit game.  He's saying what the other guy said only with a fancy mustache.  Fuck him and fuck his Gentleman friend Stone for overlooking No Cash Value.  They're two little mercenary chicken shits and they're about to come face to face with an army of free men and women who will not stand for the tyranny of blood money.  Pierce, once you put a price on a human life you become the filthiest piece of shit on the planet.  You are now nothing but a target and you will be dealt with.  You're on the shit list pal and no amount of money is going to change that.  I'm the Universal Champion and I'm about to take the United Titles.  Who is he?  Oh yeah, he's the filthy jerkoff that calls himself a Gent when he couldn't even fathom the meaning.  Yeah, he's that guy that signed his fucking death warrant the day he decided Money meant everything.  You're empty you fuck, empty as your partner's fucken head.  Prepare to reap what you fucken sow.

I assure you personally that this is not a Gentleman's sport.

I like your verse Pierce.  I'm impressed you managed to round up so many clichés and stick them all together.  Swirling mischief huh?  That's adorable.  Do you get into mischief when you're doing activities with Adam Moore?  Do you both check each other's hair and compliment each other on your glory?  I bet you do.  Locking and loading, kicking tires and lighting fires--what are you, Army or Navy?  Make up your mind.  Nah.  Nah, you're the "No Girls Allowed Club"  because your nancy boy "swirling mischief doesn't allow girls"  Fuck off you big pansy.

Man all you are is a short hair version of all those wrestlers in the eighties everyone forgot about.  You want back in because you're so upset about counterculture and the hilarious part is that you were old enough to remember it in fucken-person.  You're a relic of the fifties that can't find his place in the modern world so you shelter yourself with all of these boundaries.  You hate everything because it's not good enough, you're so dam picky even the things you love can be completely ruined when threatened.  Yep, that's why you're so caught up in gimmicks because you believe this is all a gimmick.  But like I said, you're stuck in another time and you're a two dimensional little shit that gets told when it's time to eat and fucken sleep.  Robot.  Yeah.  You're the bozo in the tie with the briefcase.  Congratulations.

I'm the Dirty Dog, Shane Clemmens, this is no fucken gimmick.  This is priceless.

So save your brain cells the next time you look for word play with "No Cash Value" because all you're doing is talking.  Yappity yap.  Talk and talk and talk until your face is a blue light special.  Ha.  Now that I think about it, The Gentleman's Club.  Isn't that the male clothing line at K-Mart?  That's what you are man, you and Stone.  You're both the bottom of the barrel faux-sophisticated menswear at K-Mart.  Congratulations.  There's a bozo out there that'll buy the shit you're saying though.  Congrats.  Yeah, you pull the same support George W Bush did.  The blind fucken retards that see ignorance like yours and cling to it.  Don't waste my time with where you came from either HOSS, cuz all you've gotta worry about is where you're fucking going next when I kick you the fuck out of Fight One on your ear.

No Cash Value OWNS this place.  Your money is subject to inflation.  Fuck off.

Don't think for a second that I'll ignore your pal either Pierce.  Oh I have a special place in my heart reserved for guys like Adam Moore.  Hypocrites.  Only the very best hypocrites gain a place in my heart too.  Remember that.  Yeah, Adam Moore, the gun for hire, the Mercenary, he talks about respect.  He talks about Class.  Wow.  I think I'm just about speechless.  Here I thought that Calvin Pierce didn't think a damn thing through before he said it but damn Moore, you've taken the proverbial cake.  If I were nearby you and I figured you wouldn't start crying I'd give you a golf clap right now bro.  Your kind of hypocrisy, like the No Cash Value, is one hundred percent priceless.

So how about you sit back and let me illuminate you on the subject.  How's that grab you?

I'm not even going to recognize this feather puffing fest you're having with Seth.  You can have it, you can own it.  Go on and on about it.  You're the slightly worse of two really shitty guys, the masters of the Gentleman's club.  Get over yourself.  I do enjoy how you complain that Johnny is so cocky and over looks us while in nearly the same breath you say that Seth and I don't factor into your plans and thus we are meaningless.  What is this some kind of Secret Agent Man game or is this fucken wrestling?  Two of your opponents for the United Titles match don't factor in?  They are meaningless?  Ha.  Better yet, the Universal Champion doesn't factor in?

Perhaps the Universal Title doesn't factor in because you can't wrassle without your buddy Calvin.  All homosexual jokes aside, are you and Calvin part of a tragic bromance that will one day destroy the both of you?  Is that what's going on here?  I certainly hope not, I would hate to see you cease to have meaning because your counterpart disappears.  Oh that would break my heart into a million little pieces.  I have to tell you too Mr. Moore, it blows my mind that you think to point out that we don't know anything about The Gentleman's Club while at the same time assuming that you have us all figured out.  You point out the stunt that Johnny and I pulled off and use that as a driving force to wrap your little stereotypical banter around us.  Yeah, we had some fun, and what makes you think No Cash Value won't have just that much more fun at the expense of you two nobodies?

I'm glad though that I'm here with the two of you.  You two who dress nice and show a bit of "class."  Sense when did class become something you buy?  Yeah.  Calvin and Adam know how much everything costs but they see the value in nothing.  All they see are dollar signs.  They make character assumptions and make light of Johnny and Brett.  Then they pull their guns back up and spit out the same bullshit about Seth and I.  This is impressive?  Did I miss a meeting on what the hell constitutes "Impressive" in the english language?  The two of you are certainly not impressive.  You're just a sad little club.  No Cash Value's an  Army.  We run this shit and you're going to see the error of your ways when we're done with you in the ring.

Dress real nice to the ring fellas because you're leaving the ring a fucken mess.

The minute you both traded your souls for dollar bills, you lost all class, respect, and fucking reason.  Prepare to pay for that mistake.

Eat a dick.

 

 

DIRTY MIND FUCK
"Best regards to Johnny Walker."

There for a while I didn’t look in the mirror and I didn’t take in the reality of what happened. I let it all pile up. I had to retreat or surely face the agony of the press and the mayhem. I needed some time to breathe. I needed to be alone from everyone—including my fiancée. I needed out of the “world.”

I went as far off the map as I possibly could. I went back to the homestead in the Copper Valley of Alaska.

My skin burns and I call it anger. I’m chopping log after lock and watching steam rise up off my arms. With every slam of the axe I feel less and less closure—as if it’s just making it worse. The fire wood shoots into two separate piles as it splits. Such a normal task should bring back normal feelings.

“Fuck!”

I rear back and fling the axe hurling forward, it slams into the old cottonwood tree with a thud. I breathe out a heavy fog. My skin no longer wants to burn, I’m starting to feel numb.

There’s nothing you can do when it’s said and done. There are no memorials for suicides. Nobody comes out of the woodwork to care if the death was a selfish one. This act… Nobody has any compassion. I don’t know why I feel so cross. I want to strangle him but all I’d do if I saw him again is hug him. He got too grown up too quick. He fell off the edge of sanity and look where it got him. His is a coffin that no one will pray over. All they’ll do is condemn him to hell.

There’s a certain sarcastic tone that goes with considering burning in hell in the middle of twenty below zero. All you want to do is get inside and get some hot coffee inside you but you can’t stop thinking about what flames feel like licking your arms. What would you do? I know there are a lot of us who pretend we’d have some kind of control in hell. What if you didn’t, what if it really is all they say it is?

What would you say to the devil?

Hey fuck face.

No, you don’t say anything to the Devil—you only listen. Everything you’ve done in this world that could come back to bite you will. You’ll be at the Devil’s mercy. Most of all, everyone you love or ever loved will know just how fucked up you really are. Imagine that, knowing that you can’t lie anymore. Piece by piece you’ll be shredded and no amount of imagination or muscle will save you.

I see Dare there right now, trying to explain himself. Careful what you tell them about your Uncle.

Careful what you tell them about Till.

The axe handle is cracked. Hitting the frozen tree shattered it. I pull it out of the tree and break the handle over my knee. I throw it down.

My life is splintered.

<<Rewind<<

Yesterday…

“I don’t know what you’re telling me that I haven’t already heard. How the hell could his heart be missing without any marks on the torso? It didn’t pop out his wrist and run the fuck away.”

I wanted to pop that fucking cop right in the mouth. Questioning me like I’m a fucken criminal. Where were you when? Who were you with? Fuck you.

“Look, I’m just telling you what I know.”

Yeah so I burst into his office. Maybe I shouldn’t have but they don’t play by the same rules I do.

“You’d better find out what the hell is going on.” The Lieutenant stopped, “What we believe happened is that during the autopsy he was a victim of organ theft.”

“What kind of fucken place do you run here?” I shook my head, “That happens?”

“Never here. Never before.” I still wanted to pop the guy.

“This is unheard of man. It’s bullshit. When I’m through with you and the rest of this fucking department, I’m going to be looking smug behind your fucken desk.”

“Look. He’s not a happy camper; let’s get out of here before you get us shot.” Bronwen interjects…

“I’m not telling you anything you shouldn’t already know Shane. Infact, why don’t you tell me about this Till Rammstein. You know all about him.” The Lieutenant’s eyes locked on to me.

“Till’s the fucken guy you should be asking about that heart.” I clamped down on the Lieutenant’s desk, fully remembering flipping Cane’s desk over before I fucked his life.

“He’s the man of the hour, why not help us track him down.”

I should have flipped the desk over, taken this guy by the throat and taken out my frustrations right there. I should have beaten him till someone shot me. I exhaled and realized that would be suicide.

“Ok.” I let go of the desk and walked to the exit. “I’ll find the fucker and give you a call.”

“You call us as soon as you get any information. If you’re right about this guy I don’t want you approaching him on your own.”

I stepped out of the office with Bron and looked back at the broken door jamb.

“Sorry about the door.”


>>Fastforward>>

I’m as far away as I can be from anything. Fight One. The Universal Title. The United Titles match. Dare is chilling in a morgue in bumfuck Ohio. I’m far away. Still, it’s all creeping up behind me. All of this trouble is about to fall on my shoulders and I’m not even sure if I want to carry it anymore.

I look up at the sky above and chuckle.

“Johnny Lukas. Always carrying Brett.”

Johnny and Brett were good even back in the RWA days. If not for them, No Cash Value wouldn’t have been as successful. Both of them want the same thing I do, among others… They both want to be the best at what they do. Johnny carries Brett to win after win and I look below me and see no support. Why couldn't Seth pick someone else. Why did we open this can of worms?

He’s aiming high and who better to pick for a partner than the Universal Champion—who better than Shane Clemmens. Still, what if Clemmens didn’t feel like his place was in a ring that night?

I head back to the garage for warmth and something to drink. I pull the barn style doors closed and turn up the jukebox.

My ambition’s struck and I can’t even count on the ones I love. Not that I should blame her, I don’t want to be tied down either. Does she see that though? She’s use to being at a different place every day. It’s always complicated. She’s always leaving. Maybe she’d have better chances without me. Maybe. She needs to be hollow like Calvin Pierce and Adam Moore. She needs it to feel like a job. Matters of the heart only complicate her.

Fuck, why do I focus on these ridiculous things when all I really need is some quiet? Gaining quiet surroundings is much easier than silencing the thoughts running through my head.

I beg them to cease but nothing wipes my brain clean. Nothing.

I fling open the liquor cabinet and I’m staring down Johnny Walker Black Label. I pull it out and look it over, this bottle isn’t mine.

When I was a kid I use to run around in the woods all around the homestead and get into all kinds of adventures. Inevitably in my fun times came the first time I found myself stalking a grizzly bear. The second I caught wind of him the hair on the back of my neck immediately stood up.

I have that same feeling right now.

“You figured me for a fool if you believed you could run.” I can hear his lips crack into a smile.

“You are a fool. Lost and confused.”

“Oh but I am absolute Shane. Do not confuse me for the provincials you associate yourself with.” His whisper is syrupy sweet. Young. It sends me into shock.

I swallow, “Careful how you talk about my friends.”

“Oh dear Shane. Always protecting your friends… Jarrell… Rosie… Dare…”

I break the bottle of Johnny Walker and turn around brandishing it as a knife. All I can see are shadows. My instincts don’t lie—he’s right there.

“I was no where near them. That was not my fault!”

“Shane. Please. Not accepting responsibility at this point in the game is ridiculous even for you.”

He lights up a cigar. I can smell it. The quarter sized cherry glows in the darkness.

“How about I cut your fucken head off.”

I hear his laugh, that booming bass laugh that begins at his feet. I see his teeth shine. It’s him. For the love of that God I keep cursing, it’s him.

“You have endured so much loss already Shane. Why not let go? I will give you peace in your life. Just let me.”

“Peace…” I simply laugh and drop the broken bottle. “Wanna talk about peace? Peace is a hospital bed. Peace is the doctor telling me I’m finished.”

“I am not referring to your life or career Shane. I am referring to lady fourteen. Bronwen. I am talking about unparalleled loss. You know it will happen. Open your eyes. You keep on telling Shawn Walsh to ‘see the writing on the wall,’ do the same Mench.” He pulls the cigar out of his mouth and ashes it.

“You’re not. Nobody. Fuck. The only person taking Bronwen away from me is Bronwen herself. Stay out of it.”

He sighs and takes a long drag on the cigar, “I cannot stay out of it—you will not let me. I am every where you are. My sphere of influence is limitless. As is your own if you would only say the words.”

I look down at my hand—blood’s flowing from lacerations from the bottle.

I’m face to face with the Grizzly and it’s time to make a move.

“Lady Thirteen.” He laughs, “How ironic.” The whites of his eyes flash as he glares at me. “They come in all shapes and sizes… Bloodlines too…”

My hand meets a tire iron leaned up against the work bench and I grab hold of it.

“You wanna see some fucken Blood?”

I lunge towards him swinging the tire iron.
 

 

 

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"Johnny Lukas the Hero, and Brett Lukas the Carried."

Brett and Johnny, before we move on, I want you to know that I think the world of you both.  I really do.  I don't want you to think that I'm mad at either of you.  You know just as well as I do that No Cash Value goes beyond "Stable Laws" into the realm of lifestyle and purpose.  One day the two of you could part ways and never see me again.  I guarantee where ever you go and what ever you do you will always hold true to what No Cash Value is all about.  You can't help it.  Perfection is in your blood.  The two of you are light years ahead of The Gentleman's Club.  Believe that.  I speak truth.  While the Gentleman's Club walk and talk clichés you guys live your lives for this sport, not "because of it."  You exist on a level that is not surrounded by gimmick and stereotypes.  You are beyond them.  Soon we'll forget about the Gentlemen all together because in a couple weeks they'll be ancient history.  Focus on what I'm about to tell the both of you.

Johnny I've gotta tell you, when I see you out there in the ring I see a lot of me.  I also see a lot of innovation.  You've always had the ability to be the best whenever you've needed to be.  You push it to the max and fucken go.  You've got all this get up and go and sometimes man I don't think you'll ever stop.  I see you leading F1X.  You have it in you.  While I see that, I see you and Brett going to war with each other.  I know that's the way you guys do and that's fine.  Ultimately though Johnny you've made a mistake.  You've overlooked Shane Clemmens and Seth Dryden.  I know that you're all amped about the match and I expect that but I'm offended to think that you expect us to watch.  If you want these United Titles man you're going to have to earn them.

I'd love to give them to you and I would if I could.  But you know what I learned from out little swerve?  All it ends up doing is giving bozos like Moore something to drone on about.  That's a Walsh move.  That's something the Superiors do.  I hate to say it but that ain't us anymore Johnny.  I'm here to break you out of that still life buddy.  You woke me up that night and I'm here to return the favor.  The only thing that feels better than stealing something is earning it.  I'm speakin truth here buddy.  I think just like it's my job to protect this ring, it's also my job to protect you from going down the road of leisure like the Gents and the Superiority Complex.  That is not us.  Not anymore.

Hell man, I'm not perfect.  Neither is Seth.  Look at Seth, he runs right up to the Gents and pokes them with sticks.  Now they hate all of use because of their assumptions.  They marginalize guys like you and me because they can't be in our shoes.  Calvin and Adam will never be Shane and Johnny now will they?  No, they're a dime a dozen even with tax.  You and I?  We're fucken priceless.  Lets you and I rise above all of this bullshit and bickering and look each other in the eye and fight to see that the United Titles of Fight One are the sought after titles world wide.  Let's make sure that the belts are never tainted by hollow little twerps like the Gents.

This is our opportunity to use all of that ignorance against them.  We can stick it to them right now and make sure that they're stopped dead in their tracks.  They are no different than Shawn Walsh, he just wants it more.  These two.  Fuck man, they don't belong in the ring with either of us Johnny, let alone our tag team partners.  We do own this shit Johnny but if you really want the United Titles you're going to have to get past Shane Clemmens and Seth Dryden.  Let's prove that No Cash Value is bigger than just a "Club" or a "Complex"  Let's shot them why they call us Priceless.

Brett.  The first guy I really met in RWA.  We've got some history man and I appreciate your regard to my partner.  I know that you and Seth don't exactly see eye to eye and there's no doubt that it will eventually come to a head.  I also know that you believe in No Cash Value just like I do and just like Seth does and somehow that keeps us all together.  There is room for dissention in the ranks when the enemy is still the only true target.  What you need impressed upon you though Brett is that I could take everything you said to me about Seth and say the same fucken shit to Johnny about you.

I could play that angle and try to throw a monkey wrench into the midst of High Society but what good would it do?  Really?  The two of you are a circus act to begin with and it pleases me.  Same time man, I'd rather see that passion you showed for Seth turned on the right targets.  The Gents for instance.  Play those games with them.  They're the primadonnas.  Your issues with Seth Dryden are unfounded simply because he's far more talented than you imagine him to be.  If only you could see that Brett.  If only being carried wasn't good enough for you.  There, I said it.

I would love to see what you could do if you let go of that ignorant hatred inside of you.  That's what I'm here for though buddy.  Look at it this way, if Seth is such shit, you'll get more in ring time with me and I'll make sure that you earn those United Titles if you take them.  May the better man win Brett.  I want that guy to be you.  I don't want Johnny to have an argument when he's talking about carrying you to another victory.  I want that shit turn around.  I want you bitching at Johnny.  Beat each other into shape if you have to.

For the time being, secure that sentiment Brett and stop worrying about who takes the leader role in No Cash Value and focus on your own role.  We don't do laundry in public.  If you've got shit to say about Seth, you say it to him, don't insult my intelligence with your sarcasm.  As much as you make me laugh, sometimes your mouth keeps moving and funny no longer comes out.  Please, I beg of you, don't make me beat that attitude out of you.  I will.  No Cash Value will step aside for a moment and Shane will simply beat the shit out of Brett.

We own this shit because we earned it.

 

 

 

endo.