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DIRTY AMERICAN DREAM
"Masks and deception."

Alaska.

My life is chaotic. I know this. I have issues, you have issues, and we ultimately share issues. Some of us wear our issues on our sleeves, some of us hide them behind a title, and others hide them behind masks.

My reflection in the mirror hasn’t blinked. The mask in my hand, held up beside my head doesn’t talk the way he did. I move the mouth and listen for all the words he could have said. The words he should have said. I turn the mask around and glare down its pits for eyes and see the same emptiness I saw in his eyes. That same blank greed.

I remember him.

“Cash means everything.”

I suppose I should have known. I should have known that deep down inside, he never changed. He merely masks it better now.

I toss the mask down into the sink and turn the water on. The water soaks the mask until it’s darker than his rotten core. I close my eyes and see the House of Pain. I see the RWA Universal Title. I open my eyes and see the Fight One Universal Title’s reflection gleaming in the mirror.

“Titles can be recast. They can be renewed. People, they only change if it gets them what they want. The greed is still there, in everyone.”

I shut the water off and glance at my own eyes. I see guilt, madness, frustration, and the devil himself. I close my eyes to shut it out. My minds eye paints a Rembrandt on the insides of my eyelids. It starts with iWi and a punk named Dryden and it somehow couldn’t end in RWA. That same fire that burnt him up then still burns today.

“Dryden, the cut throat, the mauler. The Champion.”

I look down at the mask now floating in pooled up water. I push it down and it shoots up bubbles. I grab the soap and start scrubbing the mask.

“This one’s on you fuckface.”

Dryden always forgets. He’s famed for forgetting. He’s forgotten entire promotions full of people who worshipped him. He’ll never forget the titles he won but he can’t remember a single person who put him there. Just another notch in the belt for Mr. Dryden.

I pull the strings out of the back of the mask and scrub the eyelets.

Dryden needs to see what he’s become. He needs to see it at Aftershock. I’m going to show it to him.

There’s a knock at the door.

Must be Bronwen? She’s back from wherever it was she went but why the hell would she need to knock. Sometimes she forgets to take her keys, that or she’s use to breaking into places.

I wring out the mask and hang it up to dry.

“He’ll stare James Gemini down… Eye to eye.”

More knocking.

I peer out the window and spot a cherry gullwing Mercedes.

“Nineteen fifty seven. Damn.”

I throw open the door expecting Bronwen but I’m staring down Dominique in the flesh. My first instinct is to lash out—to strike her for real. I don’t. I lock eyes with her and feel numb.

“First of all, I’m ok now. Till did something to me but…” I watch her lips as they move, “I’m all better now.”

“Ok. Fair enough…”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.”

I let her in and close the door. She takes a look at the place and turns back to face me.

“All I remember are those last few moments before that Semi came up on us.” she smiles cautiously, “I’m much better now.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” Her eyes light up, “Is Bronwen around here?”

“No. Why?” I ask.

“Oh I’d just like to have a little chit chat with her, you know, girl talk.”

“She should be back any minute.”

For a moment I wished I had a beer. I was almost that comfortable but something about her, I don’t know, seemed off. I couldn’t place it but I was starting to feel like we weren’t alone.

“Listen, I’ve got this infomercial I gotta go to, its for this new all in one shredder I’m really stoked about so if you don’t mind…” I lie…

I don’t know; saw the shit on TV somewhere.

“I would love a glass of wine.” Dominique smiles an oddball one.

“Wine?” I ask.

“Wine, from the kitchen.” She motions.

A patient collar falls down onto her wrist and I play like I don’t notice it.

“Listen Dom. How about we go sit down somewhere nice and comfortable where you can’t hurt yourself and we’ll work this out. I’ll just make some calls to some people who can help you.” I smile, ushering her towards the living room.

She reaches out with a hypodermic needle and jabs me with it. She pumps me full of some funky pink shit. I stumble back and rip the needle out of my arm and fall to the ground.

“Why’d ya DO it?!” I gasp. “You know I hate needles.”

“You and I are going to have some fun.” Dominique smiles, ripping her shirt open.
“What the fuck?!” I ask, grasping at my arm which is already numb.

Dominique smiles as she unbuttons her skirt. She steps out of it and which the exception of a garterbelt, nylons, and panties she’s buck ass naked.

“Is this shit going to kill me?”

“Obviously not. It’ll just make you…” She winks and latches onto the bulge in my jeans, “More cooperative.”

Oh, I kind of like that idea.

I shake my head, “Fuck, you suck SO bad.” I try to move but soon there’s three Doms all latching onto my honker.

I’d throw a punch but my arms are rubber. Unfortunately for me the same can be said for the rest of my body.

“This is how I go out.” Dom drags me into the living room, “Paralyzed and raped to death by a devil bitch.”

“What the fuck makes you think I WANT you inside me.” Dominique scoffs, ripping my pants off.

“Well you’re giving me all the standard signs for one.” My speech begins to slur and I hear an echo.

Hell, with the right music and the right woman, I’d probably do this drug again. Fast acting, maximum results! I want to scream, I want to laugh, I want to fight, and wouldn’t mind a fuck. I try to shake it off but that’s when Dominique sticks a tittie in my suck hole. I try to talk but make farting noises against her skin.

“Suck on it!” She commands.

She’s not speaking my language so I threaten to bite the fucker off. She whips it out of my mouth and covers her tits.

“You wouldn’t!” She whimpers.

“Oh I would, you can be damn sure of it.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?” She asks.

“You’re about to go cowgirl which you know I LOVE on me against my WILL.” I want it, I like it, I salivate, and I shake my head. “No, no, no.” I lose my train of thought and she leans forward and just as I’m about to take that titty in my mouth, I feel a rush of cold air.

“Greetings!” Dominique shouts, “Join us Bronwen!”

I fling my head to the side and a wad of spit flings across the room.

With my lips completely numb, I struggle to say, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” Bronwen stammers, standing in the door way.

“Help!” I blubber.

“I think I’d better… Go.” Bronwen takes a step back and slams the door.

 

 

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"James Gemini"

I realize that you never really existed but there are questions still without answers.  We all have them.  How could James Gemini attack me at Northern Xposure, turn out to be Seth Dryden, and still I somehow sold him out?  James, can I call you Jim, I know why you exist.  Do you really want to know why?  Are you sure?

The only reason you exist is because Seth Dryden has whipped himself into a state of complacency but still deep down he exists only for himself.  He can't take being number two to me so he dawns a faggy little mask and comes after me and Bronwen.  He hoped he'd put me out in the match with Walsh so that good old Dryden could come in and take the title in an easy peasy match against Walsh.  That's what James Gemini wanted.  He should have filled out a fucken message for his counterpart and warn him that Shane Clemmens wouldn't allow such bullshit to take place.

James Gemini is the same guy that couldn't take me at House of Pain.  The same guy I hit with a make a bitch.  Only back then, he wasn't a chicken shit.  A chicken shit like you, Gemini.

Shane Clemmens sells out Seth Dryden?

Fuck no.

Shane Clemmens finds out his best friend Seth Dryden tried to jam a knife between his shoulder blades.

Did you really think that shit would work man?  I mean, did you seriously think that James Gemini could take on Shane "Universal Champion" Clemmens?  There is no way you could have thought that man.  No way in hell.  Why?  You have the same broke-assed moves that Seth does.  All the same tells, all the same injuries.  The only thing that separates Gemini from Dryden is a set of fucking testicles.

Where'd you go James?

Does it bother you that Dryden is claiming he's a victim AND claiming your wins as his own?  Does that piss you off that even though he fully admits that he's a fucking two faced douche that he still just wants to sweep you under a rug?  Does that fuck you all up inside?  Fuck, who am I talking to anyway?  Next thing I know, Seth's going to pull off another mask and he'll really be DEATHMACHINE.  I wouldn't put that shit past him.  Goofy mother fucker.

No no no.  All you are is Envy, Gemini.  You exist merely because some little bastard got tired of number two.  He got hungry, wanted too much power.  Fuck, I don't even really care about that part.  What bugs me the most about Gemini is that he stole away the only real Dryden I ever knew.  He hid in the shadows and turned into a beast that feeds on dollar bills.  No.  Dryden is not No Cash Value.  He's hiding behind a mask.  He's James Gemini.  He's a fucking idol.  He's the best wrestler money can buy.

James Gemini sold out Seth Dryden.

Blame that mother fucker.

And fuck you, Seth.

 

 

[FLIP SIDE]