Tuesday, December 25, 2007 – Springfield, Ohio

“Conner! Anthony! Stop beating up your father, will you? You know he doesn’t like to lose.” Shelly Stone barks orders at the two twins, just as Conner nails his father with a picture perfect dropkick, with Anthony following up by driving an elbow deep into the chest of the grounded man. They both pile on and cover him.

“One!” Conner shouts.

“Two!” screams Anthony.

“Three,” Shelly says calmly, as she hauls the two off by their collars before the third hand actually hits the ground. It appears that she had been counting this entire time as a warning sign to the two boys. “When I start counting, you start listening. You got that?

“Yes mum,” they grumble in unison.

“Good, now scurry off into the lounge. Your Uncle Stan wants to give you your Christmas presents.” Their eyes light up as they tear off, leaving behind a blurry hologram of where they were. Shelly looks down at her husband and offers her hand. “Get up you lazy bum.”

“I just… I just want to lie here for a while,” the wrestling legend and undefeated XWF Universal Champion, Lee Stone, mutters through gasps for air. Shelly responds with a gentle but swift kick in the side. “Hey!”

“Up. Now.” Her hand stays in offering. Lee clasps it with his own.

“Down.” And he pulls her down. She lets out a yelp of surprise as she tumbles downwards, falling into the arms of her husband. The yelp soon turns to laughter though as Lee starts rolling around on the ground, mock-wrestling, with her still in his clutches. He spins her around so that she lies flat on her back. Looking down upon her, with her golden hair framing her entire head, he grins. “One. Two.”

“Nice try…” in a flash, Shelly spins Lee, a man double her weight, around and onto his back. Mounting him, she thrusts his arms up above his head, pinning his shoulders down. Lee squirms, but to no avail. Shelly now grins. “One. Two. Three.”

“Damn it. I concede,” he admits defeat. “The better man… err… woman, won on the day.”

“I always win,” she says, beaming.

“Why is that?” Lee enquires. “I mean, it just seems a little unfair if you ask me.”

“No one did ask you,” she retorts.

“It’s a figure of speech,” Lee explains. “You know, like when you say something like ‘all things considered’ or ‘to be perfectly honest’. You don’t necessarily say it when you have actually considered all things, or when you are being honest, you say it just because it’s programmed into your vocabulary.”

“Lee…,” Shelly begins. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he smiles his trademark grin. Wry but comforting, honest but deceiving, calm but dangerous. And she leans down and kisses him, her body pressing firmly against his. Still pinned down, Lee can do nothing but bury his face in hers, reciprocating every action. She sits up, staring down at Lee lovingly. Male instinct kicks in, and so naturally Lee wants more. She smiles and shakes her head.

“Maybe later, big fella.” Laughing at the disappointment on Lee’s face, she rises, allowing Lee just a slight glimpse of the black underwear hidden underneath her short green skirt. This adds further insult to injury to poor Lee Stone. “Now get up.”

“Fine,” he says obediently, but sounding just dejected enough to persuade Shelly into giving him just one more kiss, as they embrace standing up. Shelly is the first to break, pushing him away and changing the subject instantaneously.

“You really need to stop letting those kids play wrestling in the house, it’s dangerous,” she says with a wagging finger. “They could break something.”

“Like what?” Lee asks, his tone far too lighthearted to be genuinely concerned. “Me?”

“No,” she snaps back, “something like themselves, or like the furniture or china or anything!”

“You worry too much,” Lee says dismissively. “I’m nothing but careful with them. Plus they’re naturals. Three and a half years old and already firing off dropkicks and elbow drops that most pros would be jealous of. It probably helps that they have the greatest wrestler in history as their trainer and father, but they’ve got the instinct that you just can’t teach no matter how hard you try.”

“I want them to get an education first and foremost.”

“Wrestling is extremely educational,” Lee pleads.

“How?” she asks, accusingly.

“Thanks to count outs, they already know how to count to ten,” he replies with a jovial voice.

“Lee…” Shelly looks unamused.

“Okay, okay!” Lee caves. “I’ll make sure the priorities are on school. But they don’t start school until they’re five so that gives me plenty of time to bring them up to be as great as their daddy.”

“Just go into the lounge and check up on them,” she sighs. “You know how your brother starts telling ridiculous tales.”

“To be fair, I maintain that there is no proof that he didn’t slay that dragon.” They both crack smiles.

“Exactly,” she manages through the stifled laughter. “I’ll call you guys when lunch is ready.”

“One more kiss?” He flutters his eyelids and makes a puppy dog face. Irresistible. She swoops in and catches his face in her hands. Their lips swallow each others tongues as Lee wraps his arms around the small of her back. In a cliché moment, one of Shelly’s feet raises from the ground. Perhaps that is to do with assisting in reaching up towards the man who stands roughly ten inches above her. Who knows? It just happens.

“Lee… Lee…”

“What?”

“Lee, can you hear me?”

“Wha… who?”

“Wake up you piece of shit!”

Reality check.

Monday, December 24, 2007 – Hamilton, New Zealand

One of the truest tragedies in life is that what we want and what we get, so often fail to match up. Now, I’m not a pessimist or anything, I’m just a guy who has been through hell and back and lived to tell about it. That’ll do things to you, trust me on that one. Nobody can come out of what I’ve been through as optimistic as they went in.

Nobody.

Sooner or later, you just start questioning things… everything. If you’re spiritual, that’s when your faith is tested. If you’re not, that’s when your strength and integrity are tested. I’m not saying that religious people have no strength or integrity, don’t get me wrong there, my mother is at church more than once a week and she’s the strongest person I know. Far stronger than any of the giants I’ve had to cut down. Far stronger than myself. All I’m trying to get at is that when you believe in some sort of higher power, you put these sorts of experiences down to a test of your faithfulness and righteousness. When you don’t believe, I guess you’re forced to rely on faith in yourself. It’s not that different, only when you’re in battle without a god, you can only hope for a favourable outcome if you take action yourself. Sometimes I think it’d be easier to believe. I would love nothing more than to be able to retreat into a place in my mind where I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything was going to be just fine. Unfortunately, that’s just not a luxury I have.

Like any person, I had dreams. Some of them have come to fruition, most haven’t. But even the ones that have, didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to. I had two children, Conner and Anthony. They died. I was to be married, but that fell through. I at least half-way got to know my father, but now I haven’t seen him in over a year. And professionally, the standout moment of my career is not the fact that I never lost the greatest prize that professional wrestling has to offer, the XWF Universal Championship. No, instead that fact is overshadowed by a forty-five foot fall, over acid covered barbed wire, through fire, and onto the solid concrete floor, effectively causing me to go into cardiac arrest and require immediate resuscitation, all on global Pay Per View. In other words, the defining moment of my career is that the entire world watched me die. And I’m a legend for that? What a twisted world we live in.

I always dreamed I’d be considered one of the greatest of the greats. Now that I am, it really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Last time I stepped into the ring, my heart just wasn’t in it. I feel… burned out. Every now and then the surge of desire returns, but it fades away quicker and quicker nowadays. I just wish… I just wish it was all how I planned it to be. In life, in my job, in everything. A wife, kids, picket fenced house and being known around the world as being the best at what I do – wrestling. Given the names I’ve knocked off, you’d think I would be considered as such. Daniel Malcolm, Raziel, Dynamic Dynamite, Christian Connolly, T Money, Andrew Gibson, Trent Gein, Jem Williams, Cyren, Steve Jason, Bigg Rigg, FuZz, that’s 12 Universal Champions just off the top of my head for a total of 18 Universal reigns. I never lost that belt! Plus the countless other legends and icons of this company that I’ve taken down: KoRe, Centurion, Extreme Warrior, Superballs, Famine of the Vile, Psyko Stevo, Johnny Legend, Darkhan, Killjoy, the list goes on and on. I don’t know… I guess looking back on my career I just feel a little jaded. I should be content with what I have now though. Lee Stone has recently been labeled as the most powerful man in New Zealand, and given the fact that even our supposedly female prime minister greatly resembles a male, I’d say that’s an accomplishment to be proud of. I’m also apparently New Zealand’s most eligble bachelor. Woo! Go me! As if I care. I’m just taking everything day by day. Remember what they told you at rehab Leroy: baby steps. You haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since then, so surely you can get through anything.

It sure would be a hell of a lot easier though if everything went according to plan. I’d still have Shelly. I’d still have the kids. Token would still be here. There would never have been a Mandy Freeman in my life, so I would never have gotten involved with the W.O.R.L.D. organization - Jesus, I can’t even remember what that acronym stood for. But it’s easy to sit here and look back in hindsight, passing the blame onto various events and people in my life, convincing myself that it was out of my hands. But that’s a contradiction, as I refuse to believe in destiny. Such is the true nature of humanity. We are but a walking contradiction. We demand somebody to teach us how to live, how to survive. We demand leaders. But those very same leaders we subscribe to, are always the first we turn on. Humanity demands leadership, yet refuses to answer to authority. That one behavioral characteristic of humanity, sums up the outcome of all our lives quite simply:

Life’s a bitch.

That’s why, even when you’re down and out, you still have to ferociously grip at whatever loose strands of hope dangle in your direction. You still have to dream. You dream of change. You dream to remind yourself what you want. The story you leave behind on this earth is merely the culmination of all the dreams that you set into action and accomplished. Everything starts with a dream.

Perhaps my dreams still can come true. Conner and Anthony are a thing of the past, they can never come back. She still lives though. There isn’t a damn day that goes by that I don’t think of her. Every god damn time that I close my eyes, she’s there. I haven’t even seen her in fuck knows how many months. Could even be closer to a whole fucking year. But she still haunts me.

I’m not sure that’s a ghost that I want to rid myself of.

“I don’t get it…” my hazy, half-asleep vision begins to change. In the resulting clarity, I find myself sprawled out on the couch in my private office, here in The World’s Greatest™ Headquarters in Hamilton, New Zealand. I’m on the 12th floor of a fifteen story building – the top three stories acting as my home. This city doesn’t have the high rises of say New York or even Los Angeles, it’s even distinctly lacking in comparison to other New Zealand cities such as Auckland and Wellington. Thus this monument, towering above the nearby Centre Place and Downtown Plaza malls that border the edge of the city blocks I’m slowly but surely snapping up ownership of, serves as a constant reminder of my presence. It actually gives me more notoriety than I am worthy of. The people think of me as a ruthless businessman now, on par with the invading foreign banks whose towers reach towards the sky just as mine do. Perhaps I am. But I still give them what they want and more. The nightclubs, bars, restaurants and various shops that littered these blocks before I purchased them, are seeing their final upgrades right now. They are better than ever. I’m offering better quantity, quality and affordability all rolled into one. I’m doing more work than the fucking mayor and council. Focusing both my mind and my eyes, I recognize my right-hand man, Randy Webber, leaning over me where I was sleeping, his pale skin contrasting brightly against the burgundy walls behind him. “You woke up at what, eleven o’clock was it?”

“Eleven thirty,” I clarify, shaking the sleep from my eyes and sitting up.

“Right, eleven thirty. And here we are at one thirty and you’re asleep again?” He shakes his head, half in disgust and half in sheer amusement. “I just don’t get it.”

“I’m tired,” I offer simplistically.

“Really?” I note the sarcasm in his voice immediately. “I would never have been able to guess that if you had not been here to tell me.”

“Save your thanks,” I say, managing a smirk as I rise and shake the final cobwebs from my head. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Doing your job?” he asks curiously. “Last I checked your job was the president of The World’s Greatest™ Enterprise. Which means are now late for your meeting with the board.”

“What are they going to do? Fire me?” I laugh. “I’m the sole owner. They’re just advisors. They can wait the few minutes.”

“Just get going,” he says, cracking the whip. I bounce to my feet and throw on my jacket, before deciding that it’s far too damn hot to be wearing the full suit get-up. You gotta love summer. Well… I do, since I’m currently in summer rather than any of you Northern Hemisphere morons. Thus, casual formal shall be my dress code.

I begin to make my way down the hallway, with Randy walking on my left, further providing contradictions as I described him as my right-hand man. Note to self: make these hallways a hell of a lot more interesting. In times like this when we walk in silence, I notice just how damn depressing bare walls and tiled floors are. I guess it slipped my mind when I had this place constructed. At the opposite end from my office in this corridor, is the board room, with it’s dominating round table occupying the centre of the floor space.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say as Randy and I enter the room. “I was uh… thinking… about stuff.”

“He was sleeping,” Randy interjects.

“Why you gotta break balls, man?” I ask him, looking nervously around the room at my advisors.

“Hey, it’s like you said,” he begins with a smile. “It’s not like they can fire you.”

“Right…” I grind my teeth nervously and take a deep breath in. Turning to face the twelve individuals already sitting around the table, I brave a grin and try to change the subject. “So what do you fine ladies and gentlemen have for me today?”

“This is more or less just a project update, Mr. Stone,” one of the elder gentlemen begins.

“A project update?” I raise my eyebrow and then look disapprovingly upon Randy, “Mr. Webber you disturbed me for a mere update?”

“Mr. Stone,” the advisor, Mr. Barry Christiansen, begins, “as President you should be here for this meeting.”

“I apologize Mr. Christiansen, but I was up extremely late last night working hard for this company and am awfully tired.” I try to plead my case. “I shall be leaving this meeting in the hands of Mr. Webber here. He is the new Vice-President.”

“He is?” the ever vocal Mr. Christiansen enquires. It’s like these other morons don’t have two balls between them.

“I am?” Randy is just as surprised.

“You sure are,” I say reassuringly. “You pretty much filled that role anyway. Might as well make it official. Now have a good meeting fellas, and gals.”

As quick as I entered, I duck out the doorway, and give one of my few true friends, Randy Webber, a chance to prove his worth. I’ll admit though, the decision is not entirely altruistic. The more I can delegate my jobs to others, the more I can begin to consider other, new, business opportunities.

And perhaps some older ones can be revived.

I make my way back towards and then through my office, shutting the door behind me. I then step out onto the balcony that extends above the city. The early afternoon sun beats down overhead with a dry heat. The mugginess that has been a feature over the past few weeks has faded just in time for Christmas tomorrow. How convenient. I doubt it will last though. On cue, it always rains on Christmas.

“Mr. Stone, phone call on line seven.” My train of thought is interrupted by the small speaker box on my desk – my secretary, Melanie O’Conner’s, primary use of contacting me. Nice girl. Cute girl. I should really look into that situation. If not for myself then I could try to give Randy a hand. He could be described as social awkward when it comes to females but that would probably be too kind a description. ‘Socially inept’ would be more suitable. I suppose he keeps happy with Kelly bouncing around constantly. I must remember that it’s her birthday on the 30th. I must also find out just how old she is turning. If I went with my gut instinct and thought that she was turning ten, well then I’d be doing so at the risk of my own life. I can deal with psychos on ‘roids, I can deal with people literally wanting to end my life (and even achieving said goal), but little girls frighten the bejesus out of me. It’s a combination of things: their tiny hands; the image of that chick from The Grudge; and the way that all classic horror movies would feature little girls singing and skipping like on Nightmare on Elm Street. That’s truly nerve-wracking. That’s why I was so stoked when my kids were boys…

Were…

Past tense…

Damn…

“Mr. Stone,” Melanie’s voice cuts through my thoughts once more. I’m already moving before she even continues the sentence. “Phone call on line seven”.

“Batcave,” I answer the phone after cutting across the floor. “Christian? Holy fuck man, how the hell are ya?”

…

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too.”

…

“Nah, it ain’t the 25th here yet. Only one day’s difference, not two.”

…

“I’m gonna be in America for New Year’s, we can catch up then.”

…

“I don’t know how long for, until I get bored. I can handle the company over the phone and through the internet. I guess it just depends on whether or not I find something that I think is worth staying around for.”

So uh… is there?