(Sean): F*ck it.
He put the directions of the Training Academy into his GPS and he made his way for Santa Monica. After a lengthy drive, Sean pulls up at the Academy, parking his car and heading inside. Given it was getting into early evening, the building was quiet. He wasn’t even sure if Butch, Wisdom, Sensei Matthew or Hans would still be there. He makes his way to the recording studio to record a proper message to those sons of b*tches.
(Sean): Really guys, that’s all of you’ve got? The same old bullshit you rattle off every time?
You say I go on about my injury a lot… do you know why? Because I like to remind myself and the whole world what I’ve been through to get to where I am, Legion!
Tell me something, Legion. Have you ever felt the vertebrae in your spine break apart? It’s like when an elastic band snaps. There’s a gritty feeling, like grinding two stones together. You feel this burning sensation, like someone just pressed a red hot poker inside you. Then the cold comes, like being plunged into an ice bath. The feeling creeping down from the top to the bottom of your body. The numbness sets in… like pins and needles on steroids. You want to move your legs but you can’t, like you’re in a nightmare that you can see happening but you can’t do anything to stop it. Have you ever shit and pissed yourself in front of 20,000 people, Legion? Because that’s what happened too.
Sean smiles sardonically, he laughs, almost maniacally until tears start to form in his eyes.
(Sean): When your uncle botched that move and left my life in a complete clusterf*ck, I had to be carried out of that f*cking ring in wrestling gear filled with my own piss and shit, not able to feel a f*cking thing from my chest neck chest down. So tell me, Legion, how many injuries like that have you had.
And did I tell you about what happens next? The multiple and unsuccessful surgeries to try and fuse the broken vertebrae back together? The post-op infections, the blood transfusions. Then the wheelchair fittings… let me tell you, that was a barrel of laughs! Two years I spent, confined to a wheelchair, watching my legs and lower body fritter away like some sort of parasitic disease as the muscle mass disappeared. Having to be lifted on and off the toilet, having your ass wiped and diaper changed like a toddler….
The tears fall down Sean’s cheeks as he recounts the hell he went through after his injury.
(Sean): And look at me now!
Sean backs up and rips off his shirt. He punches one of his pecs, turning around where his back is littered with scar tissue.
(Sean): So forgive me if I don’t like to remind myself every f*cking day of what I went through and what I did to get to where I am today!
Sean points accusatorially at the camera.
(Sean): So don’t you dare compare what you’ve done to me because I might as well be in the f*cking stratosphere! I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Legion but the only thing you’re breaking a Havoc is a sweat. I don’t care how much bigger you are or how much stronger you are! Like I said before, I will chop you down like a tree. I’ll swing these legs and throw these hands like they’re axe heads to a redwood. And once you’re about ready to fall to the ground, I’ll press your throat into my shin until you turn blue. That is your penance, Legion. You bear the cross that your uncle failed to carry himself so badly he guilted himself into retirement.
You know, you like to call me Butch Parker 2.0 until you’re blue in the face, which at Havoc, you will be by the way. That I walk like him, I talk like him. It doesn’t change a thing. After all, I am a Parker! So you could say that what we do, turning violence into an art form, is in our genes.
See, like your family, Legion, wrestling is my blood. And if I just so happened to inherit even the tiniest morsel of what made my uncle such a once-in-a-generation athlete, then I will take that every day of the week!
But make no mistake, Legion, I may talk like my uncle, walk like him, hey, I may even move like him but I am my own man and I will show exactly what I mean when you stare down at me next week in Omaha. You may be Legion, you may be many but I am the one in a million, that’s why I’m here and that’s why I’m going to beat you. See you then, big guy.
Sean grabs his t-shirt up, pulling back it on. He presses the stop button on the recording equipment and uploads before taking his leave and the scene fades to black.
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