"But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." (Matthew 5:39)
Somewhere within the confines of Dark Horse Towers Senester sits in a room unseen on HWA cameras for years. A room of brotherhood where Horde brethren once collaborated and shared in the camaraderie of one another. Senester is sitting in what is essentially a massive playroom with a large billiards table behind him, bar, and countless other forms of entertainment media. A glass of cognac in his hand as he sits next to a window thinking ahead of his match with AC James.
(Senester):Men and women in this business have leveraged their unique abilities to take the reins of the industry in the palm of their hand. Steve Austin the anti-management loud mouth. Buff Bridges the poster-boy physique and looks. The Undertaker’s mystique. Hulk Hogan the personification of charisma. ICE’s beauty. Shawn Michaels’ heart. Kurt Angles’ pure athleticism. Michael Dredge’s determination. Ric Flair’s poise. The list goes on and on. Your unique ability is a double-edge sword. It has taken you to great heights, and it has dropped you from them, time and time again. That is the nature of a “Loose Cannon.” Sometimes it fires, it sometimes it does not. Sometime it is right on target, other times it misses. Sometimes it’s locked and loaded for war, and sometimes it is empty. You have no one unique ability AC James, you are the chameleon of the wrestling world. The ever changing man of the squared circle. More questions than answers as you've turned thy cheek, one too many times.
You took your wife Lisa and destroyed her in the ring. Unlike other women who often find legal favor in divorce you left her with nothing. No children, no car, no home, barely the clothes on her back, and not even a photo. From what I understand she now works in retail for minimum wage, and can’t even afford cable television to watch the television to curse the man who ruined her life. Team James had come to an end.
Your next victim was Renegade. You were the brains to his brawn until one day you looked behind you and saw the frayed edges of your coattails, soiled with his footprint. How could you not smell the blood, how could you not feel the cuts of pain from the ball and chain he locked around your ankle. It was not long before you had driven him out of HWA and the wrestling industry altogether.
Then came the Smokin’ Aces. I watched as you once again made the mistake of trusting someone. Putting your faith in the notion that someone of reputable talent needn’t leech of your own laurels in Ronnie McNeil, he himself admitted it. I believe his exact words were…
Everything that's happened in the last year, I sat back and allowed it to happen. I let myself rest on my laurels and accomplishments, thinking that my past was enough to get the things I had deserved. I spread around my wealth, giving youngsters like Eddie pearls of wisdom to succeed by. Making the career of our "world champion", AC James. Working more on monikers and catch phrases than breaking necks and winning championships. Basically, I was my own worst enemy.
Senester is shaking his head at the footage from McNeil’s old promo.
(Senester): The Smokin’ Aces had burned to ash, and by the time you had realized what McNeil had taken from you, of the life-force he drained from you it was too late. Unlike with Renegade, and unlike your ex-wife McNeil you sought revenge and dished it out like an arctic buffet. It was the talk of the wrestling world, and like Tito Santana and Rick Martel, like Hulk Hogan and Rick Flair, like Shawn Michael and Bret Hart…you too now have an arch-rival. Someone that at any given moment you can lay into one another as if your wounds still bled. However, it appears you have a need. You are insatiable AC. It seems that you simply cannot do on your own. It seems that you must surround yourself with others and still call yourself “King” amongst those who call you their equal. Not even in that wretched RWF invasion and your HWA betrayal did you find solace. The grass wasn’t greener on the other side Altair, they just swindled you into help picking up their shit on it.
Perhaps you’re still picking it up. Now you have Eddie. How many times are you going to play the fool? Perhaps we are all wrong. Perhaps it isn’t Bryan Deas who as of late is making strides of his own. Perhaps it is AC James who is now the stepping stool of HWA? Eddie has many talents. I am certain that he is a remarkable friend to have, to converse with, to party with. But in the eyes of the wrestling world you are the crutch, the only reason he is World Champion, and the only reason he still has it. It won’t be long before that tale comes to an end. Who will cut who lose first in end I wonder? We already see the threads unraveling do we not? He and Talon once again on speaking terms, DNA back in the fold. Where does this the King? Where does this leave the crutch? Where does this leave AC James? The obedient buddy, or the man ready to reclaim his glory?
At Blood, Sweat & Tears, you and I will meet one-on-one. It has been a long time Altair. I want to see what you have left. I want to see if blood still courses through your body. I want to see if sweat still drips from your pours. I want to see if tears still form or even fall from your eyes. I am hopeful to see these things when meet. The fans in their seats who shall curse us both will want to see it. Everyone wants to know if these three ingredients that made you one of the greatest World Champions in HWA history still exist inside you, or if little by little and bit by bit over the years, Lisa, Renegade, McNeil and Eddie have drained you dry.
Once upon a time we stood together. You and my brother Buff Bridges helped bring that pathetic “Pack” of Dredge, Renegade and Derrick Hall of all people, to their miserable knees and the very feet of The Horde. Alas, even your time in the Horde would have its end. You were never one for taking orders, regardless of how much to your benefit they were. You were never steered you wrong, and even enhanced by the experience. How strange it is then that you willingly succumbed to the hidden agenda and will of those you chose as your friend, those who use you for their own purposes.
At Blood, Sweat & Tears Altair a new chapter emerges in HWA. Let me see the man who called himself “King.” Let me see the man who claimed himself unbeatable, superior to all others. Let me turn the page and see if the Loose Cannon is loaded or not, if he fires, if he hits, or if he misses. This is a defining moment we shall write together. Throughout the night I want you to watch as I write other new chapters. I want you to watch as I place the period on the ones preceding them. You may be a king Altair, you may be capable of dastardly deed, and feats of remarkable physical ability, but your crown is tarnished, it's jewels are missing, and even you know that I rule the world. The universe is in the palm of my hand. I am God, and by the end of Blood, Sweat & Tears my will shall be done. You can be a leading man in my world once more, or if complacency suits you…I can lay you out as the official floor mat of HWA and the legacy you began will tarnish to the point of illegibility. Here’s to you my old friend.
Senester nods and hoists his glass with a toast to AC and takes a sip as the scene fades to black.
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