time: evening; eight twenty.

day: september fifth; oh-five.

place: bailey's bay; engel residence.

(Uncontrollable fears, incessant nightmares, psychotic outbursts, eccentric thoughts; this is your life and it's ending one minute at a time. I had thought things were getting better for me. I thought life was going great and rest assured I wasn't having these dreams anymore. However, there are only three certain things in life: you're born, you pay taxes, and you die.)

(For two months, I didn't want to sleep, but I had to. How can one survive and be in the kind of work I am in if you don't sleep? Sleeping meant having dreams that would terrify me when I woke up, make me believe certain things that weren't true, and give me hallucinations. Four months ago I had a dream that my wife died from breast cancer; I mean, I dreamed it all: the diagnosis, the death, and the funeral. I also had dreams of my brother committing numerous crimes, my daughter being hit by a bus, and other dreams that I won't even try to think about. I tried to get help for this, but there wasn't much people could do for me. It was purely psychological, so physical medicines wouldn't help that much. I didn't want therapy, but who knows? I was starting to get better, so I didn't think I needed it. The only reason I needed it was because I would wake up believing these dreams to be true. I would believe them down to my very bone because it felt so much like it really happened. I'd argue with my friends and family about certain things and pass out from seeing people, which I believed were dead, alive.)

(I stopped having those dreams after about a month, but recently I've had the same ones. They're been reoccurring in the past week. It's like a broken record in my mind. I don't understand why I've been cursed with this pain, this horror. What did I do? Is God punishing me for the being the best person, husband, father, and friend I can be? Come to think about it, He punished Jesus of Nazareth for the same thing.)

(You people. If you only knew what it's like to wake up believing in the notion that your wife, child, or brother is dead. If you only knew how terrorizing and traumatizing that was, maybe you'd have a clue on how to cherish the things you have. But no, you're too busy wanting more - and more - and more. You're not grateful for the things you have and only greedy for the things you want. You make me fucking sick.)

(I can rant all I want, but I can't change anything. People are people.)

(Today...today I feel better than most days. It was a beautiful day, which is turning into a gorgeous night. The sound of the ocean waves crashing into the beach is nothing but relaxing and soothing. Sipping on some green tea and resting with the girl of my dreams; this is my vacation. The house looks great and the yard is getting there. Mia has been on day-to-day yard revamp; putting in plants, shrubs, trees, and possibly looking into a deck-pool combination.)

(Alexia just started the 6th grade last week. She does so well in school and in sports for what she's been through; I guarantee you she's been through more trauma than what you and I have been through our entire lives, and she's only ten. Ten years old. That amazes me. She's stronger than I could ever be, mentally and emotionally. Here I am having psychotic outbreaks about having dreams and nightmares, when my daughter was terrorized, raped, and beaten just three years ago. She made it through and she had a lot of help from people who loved her and professionals. If she could get through that, I could certainly get through this, knowing full well I have help. I'll get through this. These dreams won't last forever.)

(Forever. An underrated word with so much meaning.)

(I sip my green tea once more and massage my wife on her thigh. I'm sitting down at the end of our lovely leather couch decked out in khakis shorts and a green Hilfiger shirt, as she lies across the couch with her head in my lap. She's wearing a peach skirt and a black tank top. She's catching up on some reading. I don't know the name of the book, but from what I can tell she's really into it, so it must be good. I have some music on in the background; low volume, but enough. This band has such soothing sound and enjoyable music.)

virus: What's the name of that book again, dear?

Mia: The Da Vinchi Code, babe. It's by Dan Brown. He's a really good author who writes mystery, drama, and suspense.

virus: Interesting. What's it about?

Mia: It's about a murder inside the Lourve in France and how it turns into a big mystery following the trail of the victim's secrets. It's really good. The main character is almost like a modern Indiana Jones, except he's pulled into situations involuntarily like these, not voluntarily.

virus: Sounds good. Maybe I'll read it after you do.

Mia: We'll see about that. Alexia wants to read it next.

virus: Ah, come on. Who bought that book?

Mia: Well, I did.

(A bit irritated, but understanding.)

virus: Whose money did you use?

Mia: Well, yours...

virus: Exactly. If I want to read it next, don't you think I should be able to?

Mia: Oh don't act like that. Alexia has been asking me constantly if she can start reading it. You didn't even know it existed until two minutes ago.

virus: Eh...good point. But don't loan it to anyone else after her, because I want to read it.

Mia: Deal.

(I let her go back to reading, knowing she's enjoying it thoroughly. I might've irritated her a bit with an interruption. Oh well, she'll get over it. I look down at her and realize again how lucky I am to have such a beautiful, intelligent, kind, and great wife. I love her so much. There's just no way I could live without her.)

virus: Speaking of Alexia, what time is her guitar lesson over with?

Mia: Oh...wow. They should be done in ten minutes. I need to go!

(She gets up from her comfortable position and bookmarks where she left off. She sets the book down on the coffee-table in front of us and gets up completely from the couch. She gives me a kiss on the cheek.)

Mia: Thanks for reminding me. I'll be back soon.

(Before I could say anything, she was out of the room. I sat back in the couch and turned up the music just a tidbit. I hear the front door open and shut. I get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen. I notice the famous video camera sitting in its usual corner. Deciding if it would be a good time or not, I pull the camera out of its corner and put it in the usual position - facing the backyard through our floor-to-ceiling windows. I check to see if a new or old tape is in there, but there is no tape. I run to my room and grab a videotape, coming back and putting it in the camera. I grab a seat at the opposite end of the table and grab the remote that was on the kitchen counter. It's dark out, but the backyard lights are on illuminating the new plants, shrubs, and trees that Mia has planted. I clear my voice and adjust my hair a bit. I hit record.)

virus: Well, here I am. Some of you might not know me, some of you might. Don't worry, soon enough everyone will be the latter. I was thinking about sparing all of you the introduction of myself, but then I thought to myself - what's the fun in that? Why not come out with the witty intros, long list of title history, and past 'heroes' I've crushed in my short, yet successful career? It would certainly be more interesting than recapping on what Vern Michaels said to me. So let's see, I started out in a small federation called UHWA, which was in the AoWF community. I was, to say the least, a rich little punk there. I had my fair share of good and bad matches, lost and won some, beat a few big names and no names. Some of you might remember Psychoduck, I went toe to toe with him a bunch of times and I'd say fifty percent of the time I came out on top. He was tough, I'll say.

I won a few titles in UHWA and had my big shot at AoWF Four when I won the AoWF tag team titles with McCade, which afterwards he turned on me like the Mantis whore he is and joined the MoA. All love to ya, Ryan. The UHWA closed and I found myself over in AJWF and needless to say, I was successful there. I beat some big names, had some bad injuries, collected sumptuous amounts of fame, and well - did what I always do. I had to leave AJWF, though, because I injured my knee badly. Well, that and the Front Office wasn't exactly full of competence, but what front office is? I had a victory at Fall From Grace when I beat Stanford for the King of Extreme title. You know, that awesome as fuck belt that no one really cared about except a few people? I went through 3 people in hellacious matches to get that belt and made it more famous than any Fley or Psychoduck could ever do. So yeah, I've had my fair share of success stories. I had a stint in EW, but that fed was a fluke. I wanted to give up wrestling altogether, it wasn't there for me anymore. I tried pr:V, but due to personal reasons on my family's behalf and mine, I couldn't continue there. I made my way to the ACW, but...you know, it's funny; I was there a month, and never had one match. I had a match signed with what's his face...Seldon...and it was cancelled. The Front Office there was bullshit, that's all I have to say.

Then I had a match at NoA: Sunset.

...

Right.

Dustin, we're best friends, but that...that was a joke. Pinning my two opponents in under a minute? I'm not one to not give the fans their money's worth, but it was like wrestling two retards at the Special Olympics. I wasn't going to drag it on for fifteen minutes and just knock them around like two bitches. It was pathetic and a waste of my time and...bah. I don't even want to talk about it anymore.

(At least I got that out of the way...that was too embarrassing.)

virus: Now, I'm in the PHW. It's been almost three months since that match at NoA happened and to be quite honest with you, I really haven't been training as much as I should have been. I wasn't expecting to come back to the ring. I wasn't expecting to step into another federation and go from the bottom to the top again. I wasn't expecting any of that, so I wasn't preparing for that. However, the power of peer pressure is amazing these days, even at the age of twenty-seven. Maybe Vern Michaels isn't going to get one hundred percent from me, maybe he is. Who knows, I've still got five days until the match and plenty of hours to train. It's my first match here in PHW and my second one in over two years, so he's going to get the best from me, no matter how rusty I might be. He's going to struggle incredibly with me and he'll have to work twice as hard as me in order to beat me. The only question is, can he do that?

Well, can you?

Because I don't think you can.

And I think you're an idiot.

And I think you made a mistake in breaking my sister's nose.

And I think I'm going to make you bleed so bad you'll be begging me to pin you.

(I pause for a moment, trying not to let my rage come over me.)

I really don't understand where you get off thinking your "undefeated record" actually means anything to me, or any intelligent person in this world. Maybe to the common retard, it means something special to him and you can brag to him all you want. Maybe to a no-talent rookie it means something and he can be in shock and awe from it. But to me? Kid, I've been in this business too long to be fooled by the "undefeated record" speech. I've snapped so many records and broken so many dreams because people were too fucking ignorant to know they were going up against talent and skill. They were too caught up in their own hype and I took them down without breaking a sweat.

You want that to be you? Go ahead. Dance around in your own ego and I'll beat you down punch after punch with reality.

I also believe you said as long as you're winning, you're making Kendrick look like an ass. So by beating you, I'm hitting two birds with one stone, correct? I pick up a win in my first match and possibly impress some people here and there and I save Kendrick from looking like an ass, or so you say. To be frank, he might not even give a shit about you winning. I don't know, and I really don't care. But see, my point here is that Kendrick isn't the person you're fighting, I am. I would worry more about me and what I'm going to do to you, rather than making Kendrick look like an ass. If you don't watch your step, you might end up with some broken ribs and no job.

Remember, Kendrick does run this shit - you don't.

You're just entertainment, like me. We put on a show for the crowd and we go home, except this time it's personal. It's personal because last Slaughterhouse, you happened to kick my sister right in the face. That's a bad move, soldier. Not only did you kick her, but you broke her nose. You know that old saying..."an eye for an eye"? Well, rest assured, you will be walking out of Slaughterhouse with a broken nose. I guarantee it. I don't care if I win or not, but just know that I'm going to return that favor.

You'll be regretting the fact you touched my sister. I promise you that. Once you feel the agonizing pain she felt, you'll instantly regret it. I can already tell you're a person that can't take pain. So what if you came from the DRWF. You're probably a pussy like the rest of WKMF.

Four on two beatdowns are what WKMF specialize in. Yeah, WE KILL! We just need double the guys you have in order to do so. Real classy, guys. Way to show you're dominating the PHW.

Make it a fair fight and you won't even compare against Exit Music.

(Can't stay too off-topic...concentrate on Michaels.)

virus: Did you honestly think you were going to insult me or disappoint me in any way because you didn't really care enough to find out information about me? It doesn't bother me one bit, Vern, because most of my opponents have that exact mentality. They say things like "I don't care enough to find out about him" or "it's not important, he's cake!". Bullshit lines like those are what gives me the advantage on you, Vern. I promise you that. You go into a match without any knowledge on your opponent that you know full well it could help, your chances of winning decrease dramatically. Now, you're the one with the record to uphold. You're the one that needs to make Kendrick look like an ass. You're the one that has everything to lose.

I mean, you wouldn't want to lose to nobody from God knows where, right? You wouldn't want to lose that undefeated streak, would you? It can all happen, Vern, and it will have a better chance of happening with that mentality. So please, continue on. I don't mind, it makes my job easier.

Maybe I'll break my record of the fastest pin ever. It stands at forty-seven seconds with TWO opponents. Maybe I can cut that time in half with just one? I'll be sure to try, because I know you sure as hell won't be prepared for what I'm going to deliver.

You know, that classroom bit with your friend Hurricane? Yeah, it was funny because it was so pathetic. I laughed a bit because I felt bad for you. Here you are trying to compensate for the thousands of fans and supporters you DON'T have by using a comedy bit with a fake audience?

You just can't buy class like that.

Vern, if you need to have a fake audience and a comedy act telling you that you're going to win to make you feel better, than by all means. Whatever you can do to get through the day, right? I'm glad it helps you sleep at night. Quite obviously studying at that, you're a bit scared in not knowing what's going to happen. You have doubts in yourself about winning. Sure, that top layer looks like you're just goofing around, but deep down - you don't think you're going to come out on top this time. I know, it's crazy isn't it? It's so hard to believe you're not a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. Why do you need a fake audience to justify that you're going to win? Why do you need to ask questions to the people of PHW about your undefeated streak and what they're going to do to remedy that? Because you think it'll come down to me breaking that oh-so-precious record you got going for yourself.

Please, grow up. Get rid of the comedy act and the fake support. I could easily take my following that I have from my AoWF days, which IS real, ask them about our match, and get support that I'm going to win from all of them. But I don't need to. I have no inclinations of doing that because I have all the confidence in the world that I'll be able to hold my own against you.

But my question, of many, to you is...do you have that same confidence in yourself?

If I can't make you believe in yourself, Vern, then I'll sure as hell make you believe in me. I'll make you believe I'm one of the most talented wrestlers today.

(I reach for the remote control and suddenly hear the front door open. I hit stop on the camera, take out the tape, and place the camera back in its corner. Alexia comes running in and jumps into my arms. I give her a big hug and ask her about her guitar lesson. The American dream.)