time: monday evening; nine twenty-seven p.m EST.

day: march sixth, oh-six.

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; engel residence.

(Search for truth.)

(One..more...man.)

(Tearing at the throat of one more man.)

(Never dropped as fast as one more man.)

(One more man, coloring the fate of one more man.)

(I take a deep breath, breathing in the warm, humid air of the Atlantic. The stars reflect their beautiful celestial bodies on the water and the glistening light illuminates the beach, almost as if it was daytime. I lay on the beach, my beautiful - yet troubled - daughter sitting next to me. I grab a hand full of sand and let it go, slowly, through my fingertips. I'm nervous.)

(Trying to talk to her about what has happened is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Harder than college, harder than law school, harder than all of my top wrestling matches. Nothing tops this. I mean, what do you say? "I'm sorry they cut your hand off." Shit like that doesn't fly well with her, I know that. I don't know what to say.)

(But I know I have to say something, before I lose her for good. I can't have that. I love her too much.)

(I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Silence. She knows I want to say something, but she's stubborn and prideful like me. She won't alleviate the situation for me. Joe was my brother, so we all come from the same gene pool. I sit up from the sand, shaking a little bit to get some of it off the back of my shirt, which comes into view: a loose, tan polo with the words "Amstel Lager" printed on the left side of my chest. With that, I have on a baggy pair of blue cargo shorts. No shoes, of course. You don't need them when you live in Bermuda.)

(Alexia has on a pair of jeans, she tends to get cold very easily, even when it's rather warm out. Although, it all varies on perception. She has on a pink tank-top, with her hair up in a pony-tail. Twelve years old and she looks so much like Tara. It's scary. Twelve years old, and she's more mature than me sometimes. She has a quiet, observant outlook on life. She takes the way the world is for what it is, almost her way of "shrugging" back at life. I guess it's apart of the therapy, I'm not quite sure. She doesn't talk to me.)

(But at least it's not like talking to a brick wall, because brick walls don't have facial and non-verbal expressions. She does, so I can almost see what kind of reaction she would have. I just wish she'd talk to me. I wish I could here her say that she believes me when I tell her I love her, because sometimes I get the feeling she doesn't.)

VIRUS: The ocean is beautiful tonight, don't you think?

(She takes a look out into the water, a tiny hint of relief shows on her face. It must calm her, because it calms me. I feel so much like her, but I feel so distant. I've never truly felt like her father. Maybe because I've failed as one.)

VIRUS: You know, Alexia, I love you so much. If I could go back in time, I would prevent any of those bad things from happening to you. You believe me, don't you? I want to help you in any way that I can. My love is unconditional for you, it will never change. I just wish you would talk to me, let me know what's going on in that smart brain of yours.

(She is smart. Straight-A student. Just like her dad, her second one at least.)

VIRUS: You hate me, don't you?

(Reaction. She turns her head toward me, not looking into my eyes, but looking at me. I see her eyes begin to tear. I see her just wanting to burst out with hatred and violence. I see her body wanting to implode. You shake up a Coca-Cola bottle enough and it will explode.)

VIRUS: Yes? Well, I don't hate you. I love you so much. I will never hate you and I will always take care of you, no matter how you feel about me.

(Her eyes meet mine and for the first time in months I can feel the pain she's in almost as much as if I was in that much pain myself. Then, suddenly, she jumps at me. Not in a violent way, but she wraps her small arms around me and gives me the most love I've had from her since October. I begin to tear myself as she starts to cry, hysterically. Let it out, baby. That's good. Just let it all out.)

VIRUS: I'm here. I will always be here for you. Don't you ever forget that.

(I can feel her nod her head as she continues to cry, getting even louder and more emotional. I start to tear up even more as I hold her more, tightly, as if I was never letting go. And at that moment, I hadn't planned on it.)

(She never said a single word to me.)

(But she hugged me. It's a start.)

(I haven't felt this happy and relieved in a long time. She still loves me. Forget all the glory, fame, and success; this is true happiness, and it's something that will never be taken from me ever again.)

(ever.)

time: monday evening; ten thirteen p.m EST.

(I walk into the kitchen, beer - High Life, please - in one hand and a big smile on my face. I sit down at the kitchen table, in my usual spot. Back to the floor-to-ceiling windows, I take a sip of my beer again and grab the remote for the video camera.)

(I already set up the video camera earlier, Mia needed me to do something really quick. And no, it wasn't what you think. I'm smiling for a different reason, something you couldn't possibly fathom.)

(With a fresh tape inside, I hit the record button on the remote control. It sends the camera into recording and I set down the remote on the counter. Looking into the camera, smiling like a modern-day Joker, I begin.)

VIRUS: Let's get this started off quickly and nicely; allow me to get right into it and not waste much of your precious time, Ambrose. I see your point about me being worried, but I don't quite understand it fully. Why do I need to be worried about you if a win against you three years ago is the best I can come up with? I don't get it. I was just stating to the people that I beat you, and Randall Moran, in the past. I'm one up on you. If anyone should be worried, it's you.

You've got something to prove, not me. So prove it. Show me up, or something, because even though you didn't speak that much, I'm already tired of your mouth.

So I'm the weak link? Marcus, as much as I've been "federation-hopping", I keep up with what goes on. This is the first time I've ever heard your fucking name since AJWF. Rusted, broken down, ready to come apart? Are you sure that isn't yourself?

What, are you some kind of priceless jewel that never loses its luminescence? Yeah - fucking - right. Sure maybe you've been in places that I've known about and kept up with, but you must've not done much. Because the last time I saw, or heard, "Showtime" was when I watched Rocky IV a couple months ago. Before that, it was in AJWF.

Keep it up, bud. Keep up the good work of being probably the most unknown talent in the universe.

You've held the most world titles than anyone in this place? Wow. Hold on, I gotta check to see if I actually care.

(A small pause and a stupid face later...)

VIRUS: Nope, I don't. Sorry, your world titles are pretty pointless. This isn't a world title bout, this isn't even singles competition. Your world titles don't mean anything, so please don't ever mention them again. It's a waste of my time.

Just like talking about you is a waste of my time. That's why I'm done with it, right about now.

(I clear my throat.)

VIRUS: Obviously my words weren't clear enough for Mr. Duff, so allow me to clarify a thing or two. When I told you to get out of the way, that was for your own good. Does that effect the fact of how big my "cojones" are? Nah, not really. I was doing you a favor, actually. Thus, my "cojones" are probably a lot bigger than yours.

In that rambling of God knows what, you were actually right about one thing: I have never stepped in the ring with you.

Yet, you claim you've faced more challenging people than myself.

(I chuckle.)

VIRUS: How does that work, Duff? Did you fight my clone one day? I didn't even know I got cloned. Strange. Surely someone would have told me, or would they?

Cue the Twilight Zone music.

Now.

...

The truth is Duff you have no idea how challenging or unchallenging I am, so you can't make any claims like that. Did I ever claim anything like that to you? No. Sure, I have confidence in my talent, which I'm confident to say is far more superior to you especially because of the fact you've never come near an AOWF ring, but talent doesn't always win you the match. I explained that well in my last promo, didn't I? Weren't you paying attention?

You weren't? Bad move. I hope you can pay attention in the ring, because you're going to need all the concentration and focus you can get. You're going to need everything and anything, Duff, in order to get the upper-hand on me.

I do not quit.

I don't know what mercy means.

and I won't lose.

See Duff, when you say I have a good record elsewhere, that "elsewhere" was actually one of the most competitive and talented communities in its day. So, having a good record there means a lot more than the connotation you gave it.

It means that I've beaten some of the best and lost to some of the best. I've paid my dues and I've done my fair share of glory runs.

Here's to one more.

(I take a big gulp of the High Life. Pun intended.)

VIRUS: Scotty Nash, I'm not just another member of Exit Music. If I wasn't around, EM just wouldn't be the same. Sure, you'd still have Wolf and Langly, but it just wouldn't be as wonderful without me. No offense to Dustin or Riona, they're both great, but I feel I put a lot of time and effort into what I do for a living to make Exit Music as great as it is.

So, I'm not just another member, another face. I give EM a bit of its sparkle and greatness. We all do. We haven't even been around that long, as a stable, and we still get talked about over the Straders and Charms, which makes me sad putting those two in one sentence.

Yup.

So please, just take it for what it is instead of denying the fact that EM is the greatest thing since sliced bread. Denial drives men crazy. You don't want to be crazy, do you? I knew someone who was crazy.

I killed him.

True story.

(A menacing grin...)

VIRUS: Scotty, it's been about thirty seconds since the last time anyone has given a rat's ass where I've been. Surely someone out there has thought "Where the hell has that dude been? I'm so glad he's back! He rocks!" in the past thirty seconds. You even said it yourself, you were happy to see me back on television.

So you gave a rat's ass where I was, too. Scotty, you're too kind.

But you know what, if I didn't up and leave a place every time my name started to mean something, you'd be working a fucking hotdog stand in New York City, bitch.

So be grateful that I've been doing that because I guarantee you there'd be no room in the professional world that actually means something for Scotty Nash. I'd be bigger than your whole family put together.

So, be grateful.

(A smirk.)

VIRUS: Just because you were crowned World Champion - and hey, thanks for telling us twice, because I'm sure none of us watched that show - doesn't guarantee that you have intelligence. I've seen dumb men win World Championships. Willy Moran is one example. He was as dumb as a brick, but he won world titles. Chamelion too.

See what I'm getting at here? Winning a World Championship and beating someone half your talent doesn't mean you're smart. Surely you can understand that via the best example of all time.

No, wait. I'll tell you that one later. You and me will go bar-hopping one night and I'm sure I'll spill it. It's quite funny.

Don't fret, I'll be prepared in every way for you and your "team" on Wednesday. Well I understand the "one-sidedness" of this match, I won't prepare any less for it. That's not in my nature. Gotta be ready for anything and everything. Gotta be on top of my game, on the tips of my toes. ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.

Anything, Scotty.

Like me putting you down for the one-two-three, in front of your brother and millions of people watching.

Doesn't that just make your spine tingle?

(A brief smile as I reach for the remote. I turn off the camera and eject the tape. I lay the tape on top of the counter and put the camera back in its corner. I tuck the chair I was using back into the table -- Mia would have a fit if I didn't. I turn off the kitchen light, heading to the bedroom. I crawl into the bed with my beautiful wife as the scene diminishes.)

-fade-