Evil James
League Member
“ly·ing2 (lī'ĭng)
v.
Present participle of lie2.
adj.
Disposed to or characterized by untruth: a lying witness.”
- Definition of Lying, Answers.com
September 27, 2009
Night.
For weeks I’ve been trying to prepare myself for the biggest tournament of my life. However, everything has not gone according to plan. All of my buddies are either dead, arrested, or in somewhere in parts unknown. To top that off, I’m making a comeback after a long hiatus and to even further my distractions I’m going on a date right now with the one woman I have actual feelings for and am not using for sex or manipulating to gain something. We’re walking toward the restaurant but my mind is not on her. It’s on the tournament.
Going inside the restaurant, I walk in first holding the door open for my date. She’s in a beautiful black satin dress. She looks rather elegant this evening as we go in and wait to be seated. Good thing I made reservations. This place is packed. We walk over to the Maitre D’ and I give him my reservation information.
“Hi. I have a reservation for two under the name Abe Froman.”
Luckily I made reservations so we are seated only moments later. I sit down across from her, thanking the waitress politely for seating us before looking over and gazing into her eyes. She smiles back at me as we both grab our menus. However, she seems to notice something as I look down at the menu.
“James, you seem a bit distracted,” she says to me.
I look up from the menu and give her a look before sighing.
“Yeah, I kind of am.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m in this GTT7 tournament coming up and it’s really weighing heavily on my thoughts.”
She seems a bit taken aback by this.
“Oh…but I thought I was the one running through your mind,” she says with a sly, seductive smile.
“Yeah, you should be but I’ve been training for this tournament for awhile and it’s going to be the biggest tournament in the history of professional wrestling.”
“Wow, I hope you do good.”
“Thanks. However, I’ve made myself into a huge target.”
“How did you do that?”
“I’m one of the top sixteen seeded wrestlers in the tournament so I have a huge target on my back. Plus I went into the trash talking salesman thread and told everybody that I hated them all.”
She looks puzzled by this statement for some reason.
“Why would you do that?”
“For mind games and manipulation.”
This seems to puzzle her even more.
“What do you mean?”
“See, I think that I should be at the forefront of everyone’s thoughts at all times,” I tell my lovely date. “And feel that I can do that better as a bad person rather than as a good person.”
“But that makes no sense, James,” she replies, seemingly a bit perplexed that I’m talking about GTT wrestling strategy instead of talking about how much fun we’re having on our stupid date.
“I know it makes no sense,” I respond with a little smirk.
“If you were a dumb person, I’d understand,” she says. “But you’re not a dumb person. You’re a smart person.”
“But I have all of these wrestling smarks fooled,” I reply with a smile creeping across my face. “They think that I am a weak, pathetic wrestler. I’ve been fooling them for years. I have them thinking that I have no chance to win. They think that I’m a non-threat that has no chance against anyone. I have them all fooled!”
She rolls her eyes.
“That’s great, James,” she replies, seemingly uninterested and annoyed by this conversation that we’re having.
“The best part is that none of them have seen this coming,” I continue. “I’ve been plotting this for over four years and nobody saw it coming. I’ve been the biggest liar in the PTC. I’ve lost on purpose to appear weak and lied about not trying to lose. I’m the biggest liar there. I’m probably the biggest liar in Nevada. On average I tell about two hundred lies each and every day. If one or two of them stick, then I still have the plan going and continue to sucker people in.”
“My way of thinking is that if I people care about how I think, then I can control them. I can be the puppeteer and they can be the puppets that I control. All of this planning and it’s come together quite nicely if I do say so myself. I’ve also gone to great lengths to make every wrestler that competes in the PTC hate me. I want them to hate me because if everyone hates me and I have no allies, then I’m not seen as a threat.”
“Plus with the idiots thinking that I’m a weak, non-threat to them because of my years upon years of lies that I’ve told, I have them right where I want them. The plan, as crazy as it sounds, has worked to perfection. Right now I’m considered the least likely to win GTT7 and that’s exactly how I want it. If I’m seen as a threat, then everything will fall apart. However, I don’t think it will.”
She clears her throat and I look over at her. Quickly I notice that the waitress is there standing behind her waiting to take our drink orders. I stop talking and smile at the waitress.
“Hi,” she replies. “I’m Stacy. I’ll be your waitress for today. Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
“Hmmm…” I mutter back. “Give us your best red wine, please.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies before walking off.
At this point me and my date exchange knowing looks before going back to look at our menus. Yeah, this date is going well. Hopefully I can get my mind off of this tournament long enough not to screw this date up.
* * *
Two days later…
Morning.
This is the point in the week where I really need to be getting ready for the tournament since it will be starting soon. I also have a PTC Elite Championship contender’s match to worry about.
However, instead of getting prepared, I decided to hang out all last night with Rappin’ Rick Malloy form SCCW. Big mistake. I just woke up with the biggest hangover I’ve ever had with in my life. Groggily getting out of bed, I stumble across my darkened bedroom and open up the door.
Once the light hits my face, I shield my eyes before groggily wandering into the living room of my house. I walk over toward the couch to sit down only to find Rick Malloy asleep, snoring loudly with a naked hooker next to him.
I can only shake my head at this stupidity. The hooker wakes up and notices me. I give her a look, raising my eyebrow. She looks at me for a second before grabbing her slutty outfit and quickly putting it on as I walk toward the kitchen. As I get closer, I hear a buzzing noise. Looking at the kitchen counter, my cellphone is vibrating. Puzzled as to why I would be getting a call this early, I go over and pick up the phone. Flipping it open, I answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi William. What‘s crackin‘?”
“Yeah, I’m up. Just got up, actually.”
I peer over to see the hooker leaving, closing the door behind her. I don’t trust hookers. I bet her plan was to steal **** but I made sure that’s what was not going to happen. Still listening to my agent on the phone, I go over and lock the door so the hooker doesn‘t sneak back in. I continue listening to William. He’s actually my agent, William Smith. For some reason he’s rambling on and on about getting me a pre-GTT gig at an indy show or something.
“Uh, William. You’re coming over later this morning, right?”
“Yeah, well I’m going to take a shower. Malloy’s here sleeping on the couch. He had sex with some hooker and most likely snorted coke off of her breasts.”
This draws a reaction from William. He can’t believe I was dumb enough to go hanging out with Malloy instead of training.
“William, calm down! I’m going to take a shower. Rick’s here. He’ll let you in. I’ll talk to you about it then.”
I shut off my phone and take it with me as I head to my bedroom. I grab some shirts, pants, socks, and boxers before walking over to the bathroom and going inside to take my shower and not worry about whatever William was rambling about or about having a coked up rapping wrestler sleeping on my couch. Now, I just need to get clean and get out of these dingy clothes.
* * *
A short time later…
I come back into my living room after taking my shower and getting dressed to find Rappin’ Rick and my agent William Smith, who I thought was going to kill Rick by the way he was talking on the phone, joking around about the GTT7 trash talking that’s been going on. They’re talking about me and all the bull**** and lies that I’ve been telling throughout my GTT7 trash talking and selling. Malloy sees me walk in and he starts laughing. Judging by the beer cans on the kitchen counter and the empty bottle of Vodka, I’d say this is going to be quite the interesting conversation. At least it’s mellowed William out and kept Rick from snorting anything else.
“How they let this guy…” Malloy says, motioning toward me.
William seems to be in disbelief of it too. He’s known me for years and knows what I’m capable of.
“Varga, one of the baddest wrestlers in PTC history,” says in an exaggerated tone of voice that makes it sound funny. “Let’s not mess with him! Let’s go after some guy who is his own narrator!”
Now all three of us are chuckling over it. I almost keep a straight face the whole time though. I turn to Rick, who‘s still giggling over the previous comment.
“You’ve won the SCCW Livewire Championship and a battle royal,” I respond holding back a grin. “I’ve won nothing.”
“This is hilarious,” Smith replies laughing. “You really are the Puppetmaster.”
“I keep telling them that I’m playing them and nobody has chosen to listen to me except for maybe Brian Arson and Jay Phoenix,” I say. “Everyone else just ignored my warnings. I said it all in there. I’m lying, I will continue to lie, and I’m not as weak as I’m saying. But if you look at my track record, it’s not good despite all the championship wins.”
Malloy looks confused.
“What do you mean championship wins?” he asks in a quixotic tone.
“These suckers aren’t going to see it coming,” I say with a smile, already plotting out my next move as far as the tournament goes. “They all have already fallen for my bull****. What I do is I make myself appear to be the weakest possible competition for them and when it comes to the championship, more often than naught, I win the title. I’ve proven that in the past.”
“So?”
“So…I have to keep them thinking that. If these fools knew what I was really capable of, they’d be more scared of me then they are now. They would be shaking in their boots like they do when they hear the names of people like Rich Rollins, Angelo Deville, and Jason Snow. Instead they chuckle and make jokes at my expense.”
“Does that amuse you?” Malloy asks.
I quickly shoot him a look.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
Both he and Smith shake their heads in unison.
“No,” Smith says.
“Well I’m not. This is going to be their time of reckoning. I’m going to be creating chaos. Already I’ve made secret alliances with half of the field in the tournament. I’ve manipulated them into taking out whomever they end up against. That helps both me and them. I’ve got people already going for my mind games and only four matches have already been announced.”
“This is going to be my master work. It’s going to be epic. I hope both of you enjoy the show when it goes down. But, until that time comes, give me a beer.”
I smile deviously as Smith goes to the fridge and opens it up, pulling out a Bud Light. He closes the door and hands it to me. I open it up and take a sip, not even thinking about anything at this point. This will be a time of clarity for me. I’m going to need it after the way things have been going for me lately.
* * *
Later…
Today has been a weird day. I got ex-girlfriends calling me, I have former trainees of mine wanting me to come and see them wrestle, and I find out that I’m facing Darek DeAngelo in a PTC Elite Championship contender‘s match even before GTT7 starts up.
What else is going to happen?
…
I’d better not even think about I should be training. I should concentrating on my matches. However, instead of doing that, I am stuck trying to make amends with my favorite gal pal that I screwed up on the phone. She’s still furious with me over the other night and won’t let me explain myself at all.
“Yeah…”
She starts yelling at me again at this point.
“Will you let me finish?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Continuing to yell at me, she accuses me of putting a stupid tournament ahead of our relationship and that I’m not even thinking about her at all.
“Baby, if I wasn’t thinking about you, why would I be calling you on the phone?”
This doesn’t work.
“You just ignored everything I said.”
“Yes you did.”
This gets me nowhere. I need a back up plan now, otherwise this is going to blow up in my face.
“Honey, I love you! I would never put anything ahead of our relationship. Nothing in this world means more to me than you. I love you and I always have loved you. If that’s not something you want to hear, then you’d best hang up the phone right now.”
After a short pause, she changes her tune and starts talking like the sweet woman she normally is.
“Yes, I do love you.”
I’m lying, of course. I have no heart or soul. It’s just a dank, dark dungeon where my heart is supposed to be.
“Yes, Thursday night sounds good. First day of October. It’ll be fun.”
She tells me she loves me and is glad we had this talk.
“I’m glad we did too.”
I’m lying. Actually, for once, I’m not. She might be a good repellant for all the “ring rat psychos” out there who just want to **** a professional wrestler. Actors, musicians, and other celebrities have this problem too.
“I love you too and see you Thursday.”
“Bye.”
I close my cellphone and smile deviously. At least I have one distraction finished. Now I can concentrate on GTT7 and the upset of the century. Varga winning the biggest and baddest tournament of all time. That would be a story.
Now I just need to plan out how I’m going to pull it off…
v.
Present participle of lie2.
adj.
Disposed to or characterized by untruth: a lying witness.”
- Definition of Lying, Answers.com
September 27, 2009
Night.
For weeks I’ve been trying to prepare myself for the biggest tournament of my life. However, everything has not gone according to plan. All of my buddies are either dead, arrested, or in somewhere in parts unknown. To top that off, I’m making a comeback after a long hiatus and to even further my distractions I’m going on a date right now with the one woman I have actual feelings for and am not using for sex or manipulating to gain something. We’re walking toward the restaurant but my mind is not on her. It’s on the tournament.
Going inside the restaurant, I walk in first holding the door open for my date. She’s in a beautiful black satin dress. She looks rather elegant this evening as we go in and wait to be seated. Good thing I made reservations. This place is packed. We walk over to the Maitre D’ and I give him my reservation information.
“Hi. I have a reservation for two under the name Abe Froman.”
Luckily I made reservations so we are seated only moments later. I sit down across from her, thanking the waitress politely for seating us before looking over and gazing into her eyes. She smiles back at me as we both grab our menus. However, she seems to notice something as I look down at the menu.
“James, you seem a bit distracted,” she says to me.
I look up from the menu and give her a look before sighing.
“Yeah, I kind of am.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m in this GTT7 tournament coming up and it’s really weighing heavily on my thoughts.”
She seems a bit taken aback by this.
“Oh…but I thought I was the one running through your mind,” she says with a sly, seductive smile.
“Yeah, you should be but I’ve been training for this tournament for awhile and it’s going to be the biggest tournament in the history of professional wrestling.”
“Wow, I hope you do good.”
“Thanks. However, I’ve made myself into a huge target.”
“How did you do that?”
“I’m one of the top sixteen seeded wrestlers in the tournament so I have a huge target on my back. Plus I went into the trash talking salesman thread and told everybody that I hated them all.”
She looks puzzled by this statement for some reason.
“Why would you do that?”
“For mind games and manipulation.”
This seems to puzzle her even more.
“What do you mean?”
“See, I think that I should be at the forefront of everyone’s thoughts at all times,” I tell my lovely date. “And feel that I can do that better as a bad person rather than as a good person.”
“But that makes no sense, James,” she replies, seemingly a bit perplexed that I’m talking about GTT wrestling strategy instead of talking about how much fun we’re having on our stupid date.
“I know it makes no sense,” I respond with a little smirk.
“If you were a dumb person, I’d understand,” she says. “But you’re not a dumb person. You’re a smart person.”
“But I have all of these wrestling smarks fooled,” I reply with a smile creeping across my face. “They think that I am a weak, pathetic wrestler. I’ve been fooling them for years. I have them thinking that I have no chance to win. They think that I’m a non-threat that has no chance against anyone. I have them all fooled!”
She rolls her eyes.
“That’s great, James,” she replies, seemingly uninterested and annoyed by this conversation that we’re having.
“The best part is that none of them have seen this coming,” I continue. “I’ve been plotting this for over four years and nobody saw it coming. I’ve been the biggest liar in the PTC. I’ve lost on purpose to appear weak and lied about not trying to lose. I’m the biggest liar there. I’m probably the biggest liar in Nevada. On average I tell about two hundred lies each and every day. If one or two of them stick, then I still have the plan going and continue to sucker people in.”
“My way of thinking is that if I people care about how I think, then I can control them. I can be the puppeteer and they can be the puppets that I control. All of this planning and it’s come together quite nicely if I do say so myself. I’ve also gone to great lengths to make every wrestler that competes in the PTC hate me. I want them to hate me because if everyone hates me and I have no allies, then I’m not seen as a threat.”
“Plus with the idiots thinking that I’m a weak, non-threat to them because of my years upon years of lies that I’ve told, I have them right where I want them. The plan, as crazy as it sounds, has worked to perfection. Right now I’m considered the least likely to win GTT7 and that’s exactly how I want it. If I’m seen as a threat, then everything will fall apart. However, I don’t think it will.”
She clears her throat and I look over at her. Quickly I notice that the waitress is there standing behind her waiting to take our drink orders. I stop talking and smile at the waitress.
“Hi,” she replies. “I’m Stacy. I’ll be your waitress for today. Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
“Hmmm…” I mutter back. “Give us your best red wine, please.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies before walking off.
At this point me and my date exchange knowing looks before going back to look at our menus. Yeah, this date is going well. Hopefully I can get my mind off of this tournament long enough not to screw this date up.
* * *
Two days later…
Morning.
This is the point in the week where I really need to be getting ready for the tournament since it will be starting soon. I also have a PTC Elite Championship contender’s match to worry about.
However, instead of getting prepared, I decided to hang out all last night with Rappin’ Rick Malloy form SCCW. Big mistake. I just woke up with the biggest hangover I’ve ever had with in my life. Groggily getting out of bed, I stumble across my darkened bedroom and open up the door.
Once the light hits my face, I shield my eyes before groggily wandering into the living room of my house. I walk over toward the couch to sit down only to find Rick Malloy asleep, snoring loudly with a naked hooker next to him.
I can only shake my head at this stupidity. The hooker wakes up and notices me. I give her a look, raising my eyebrow. She looks at me for a second before grabbing her slutty outfit and quickly putting it on as I walk toward the kitchen. As I get closer, I hear a buzzing noise. Looking at the kitchen counter, my cellphone is vibrating. Puzzled as to why I would be getting a call this early, I go over and pick up the phone. Flipping it open, I answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi William. What‘s crackin‘?”
“Yeah, I’m up. Just got up, actually.”
I peer over to see the hooker leaving, closing the door behind her. I don’t trust hookers. I bet her plan was to steal **** but I made sure that’s what was not going to happen. Still listening to my agent on the phone, I go over and lock the door so the hooker doesn‘t sneak back in. I continue listening to William. He’s actually my agent, William Smith. For some reason he’s rambling on and on about getting me a pre-GTT gig at an indy show or something.
“Uh, William. You’re coming over later this morning, right?”
“Yeah, well I’m going to take a shower. Malloy’s here sleeping on the couch. He had sex with some hooker and most likely snorted coke off of her breasts.”
This draws a reaction from William. He can’t believe I was dumb enough to go hanging out with Malloy instead of training.
“William, calm down! I’m going to take a shower. Rick’s here. He’ll let you in. I’ll talk to you about it then.”
I shut off my phone and take it with me as I head to my bedroom. I grab some shirts, pants, socks, and boxers before walking over to the bathroom and going inside to take my shower and not worry about whatever William was rambling about or about having a coked up rapping wrestler sleeping on my couch. Now, I just need to get clean and get out of these dingy clothes.
* * *
A short time later…
I come back into my living room after taking my shower and getting dressed to find Rappin’ Rick and my agent William Smith, who I thought was going to kill Rick by the way he was talking on the phone, joking around about the GTT7 trash talking that’s been going on. They’re talking about me and all the bull**** and lies that I’ve been telling throughout my GTT7 trash talking and selling. Malloy sees me walk in and he starts laughing. Judging by the beer cans on the kitchen counter and the empty bottle of Vodka, I’d say this is going to be quite the interesting conversation. At least it’s mellowed William out and kept Rick from snorting anything else.
“How they let this guy…” Malloy says, motioning toward me.
William seems to be in disbelief of it too. He’s known me for years and knows what I’m capable of.
“Varga, one of the baddest wrestlers in PTC history,” says in an exaggerated tone of voice that makes it sound funny. “Let’s not mess with him! Let’s go after some guy who is his own narrator!”
Now all three of us are chuckling over it. I almost keep a straight face the whole time though. I turn to Rick, who‘s still giggling over the previous comment.
“You’ve won the SCCW Livewire Championship and a battle royal,” I respond holding back a grin. “I’ve won nothing.”
“This is hilarious,” Smith replies laughing. “You really are the Puppetmaster.”
“I keep telling them that I’m playing them and nobody has chosen to listen to me except for maybe Brian Arson and Jay Phoenix,” I say. “Everyone else just ignored my warnings. I said it all in there. I’m lying, I will continue to lie, and I’m not as weak as I’m saying. But if you look at my track record, it’s not good despite all the championship wins.”
Malloy looks confused.
“What do you mean championship wins?” he asks in a quixotic tone.
“These suckers aren’t going to see it coming,” I say with a smile, already plotting out my next move as far as the tournament goes. “They all have already fallen for my bull****. What I do is I make myself appear to be the weakest possible competition for them and when it comes to the championship, more often than naught, I win the title. I’ve proven that in the past.”
“So?”
“So…I have to keep them thinking that. If these fools knew what I was really capable of, they’d be more scared of me then they are now. They would be shaking in their boots like they do when they hear the names of people like Rich Rollins, Angelo Deville, and Jason Snow. Instead they chuckle and make jokes at my expense.”
“Does that amuse you?” Malloy asks.
I quickly shoot him a look.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
Both he and Smith shake their heads in unison.
“No,” Smith says.
“Well I’m not. This is going to be their time of reckoning. I’m going to be creating chaos. Already I’ve made secret alliances with half of the field in the tournament. I’ve manipulated them into taking out whomever they end up against. That helps both me and them. I’ve got people already going for my mind games and only four matches have already been announced.”
“This is going to be my master work. It’s going to be epic. I hope both of you enjoy the show when it goes down. But, until that time comes, give me a beer.”
I smile deviously as Smith goes to the fridge and opens it up, pulling out a Bud Light. He closes the door and hands it to me. I open it up and take a sip, not even thinking about anything at this point. This will be a time of clarity for me. I’m going to need it after the way things have been going for me lately.
* * *
Later…
Today has been a weird day. I got ex-girlfriends calling me, I have former trainees of mine wanting me to come and see them wrestle, and I find out that I’m facing Darek DeAngelo in a PTC Elite Championship contender‘s match even before GTT7 starts up.
What else is going to happen?
…
I’d better not even think about I should be training. I should concentrating on my matches. However, instead of doing that, I am stuck trying to make amends with my favorite gal pal that I screwed up on the phone. She’s still furious with me over the other night and won’t let me explain myself at all.
“Yeah…”
She starts yelling at me again at this point.
“Will you let me finish?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Continuing to yell at me, she accuses me of putting a stupid tournament ahead of our relationship and that I’m not even thinking about her at all.
“Baby, if I wasn’t thinking about you, why would I be calling you on the phone?”
This doesn’t work.
“You just ignored everything I said.”
“Yes you did.”
This gets me nowhere. I need a back up plan now, otherwise this is going to blow up in my face.
“Honey, I love you! I would never put anything ahead of our relationship. Nothing in this world means more to me than you. I love you and I always have loved you. If that’s not something you want to hear, then you’d best hang up the phone right now.”
After a short pause, she changes her tune and starts talking like the sweet woman she normally is.
“Yes, I do love you.”
I’m lying, of course. I have no heart or soul. It’s just a dank, dark dungeon where my heart is supposed to be.
“Yes, Thursday night sounds good. First day of October. It’ll be fun.”
She tells me she loves me and is glad we had this talk.
“I’m glad we did too.”
I’m lying. Actually, for once, I’m not. She might be a good repellant for all the “ring rat psychos” out there who just want to **** a professional wrestler. Actors, musicians, and other celebrities have this problem too.
“I love you too and see you Thursday.”
“Bye.”
I close my cellphone and smile deviously. At least I have one distraction finished. Now I can concentrate on GTT7 and the upset of the century. Varga winning the biggest and baddest tournament of all time. That would be a story.
Now I just need to plan out how I’m going to pull it off…