I was getting ready to hit the road. The last of my things were packed for Dallas but sources tell me there’s been a detour I should be aware of. Maniac’s bus which was headed to Dallas made a sudden turnabout and looks to be heading Northeast. Where the hell is he going? Maybe New York, the bastard has a house there. I don’t have time for playing pinball across the states and I don’t have time to change my damn ticket and car rental. Fuk! My phone pings and I grab it seeing a text from Sarah.

“Did you see the promo? Somebody is sticking their head back in the door…you’ll want to say hello to! You do you boo!”

Promo? Who….what is she talking about? I open the HWA app and login, and there it is….Bryan Fuking Deas! I click on the link to his video and watch. My jaw clenches, and little colored waves distort the screen as my thumb and grip presses into my cell phone. Now? Of course he resurfaces now when my focus is on his old pal.

I bet they planned this together. Maniac’s idea of distracting me. He just keeps bringing in his merry band of has-been friends hoping to delay the inevitable. It won’t work. I swipe on the app, this message from Deas demands a response. My very insides are itching. I see the screen change to show my face, I look a mess but I don’t care, here goes.

(Jeremy): Deas….you loathsome piece of shit! It’s been two years since you showed your face. Now you pop back in the spotlight and suggest that we’re all wondering about you. The wrestling world forgot about you just like they did when HWA closed its doors 10 years ago. Nobody’s wondering why you left. You left because you’re a fuking piece of shit coward.

And don’t flatter yourself, nobody cares what you’ve been doing either. But…..I didn’t forget you, and I know what you’ve been doing you goddamn vulture. You’ve been lurking in the shadows waiting to swoop in and pick bones at an opportune time like you did before.

The problem for you is…time isn’t on your side. The thing is Deas, you’re two years older and I’m two years better. You remember that! You think about that when you swing your legs to the side of the bed on the morning of the day you decide you’re going to walk back in here. Take a look down at the yellowed, crooked toenails and dry cracked heels on your feet and ask yourself if they can really go a few more miles.

Anger just intensifies. If I feel the back of my head, hidden behind my hair is the scar from when he clubbed me upside the head with his bat. I hope he comes back, he has no idea what he’s in for.

(Jeremy): You picked the wrong time to open your fuking mouth. A lot has happened since you tucked tail and ran, but I’m sure you know that much. What you don’t know is the frame of mind I’m in. Know this Deas…unlike last time….I will see you coming….and I will expect it. No disrespect to Randy Orton…but I’m the new “Legend Killer” and there’s plenty of room on the list for your name next to your old friend Maniac and Lunatik. I dare you, I fuking dare you to come back. The next time you leave it won’t be voluntary and I’ll make sure there won’t resurface ever again. Not even for a reunion show.

I publish the message, I’m sure he’ll see it. I’m sure he’ll dismiss it, but he needs to know what he’s in for so when the time comes I can say…I told you so. They did this…Maniac, Lunatik, Deas…they brought their old-school habits into our ring and have tainted our new era of HWA. They piss on everything Matt created, that Sean created, that Michelle and Sarah, and I created. This changes nothing at present, I still have to head to Dallas. I still have to face Tobias and I still have to deal with Maniac. t

19 Hours Later

I’d arrived in Dallas, got my renal and was in route to the hotel. I just wanted a shower, something to eat and to get some sleep, that’s the plan. My phone pings and I take a look seeing Maniac’s newest message. I hit play. I can’t look at the video directly staying focused on the road but listening is more than enough to get my blood starting to boil. So what! I don’t care if he knows I’m stalking him, all the better really. I listen more and…What? How dare he? How fuking dare he decline the match. I should have known he’d…

“…..is what Matt wanted for you?”

I take a hard right pulling onto the shoulder of the freeway. No! No you fuking didn’t. I grab my phone incensed; the app is fired up and I’m live. Recording on the side of the busy highway as cars rush by 70, 80, and 90 mph.

(Jeremy): How dare you! Don’t you Ever, speak his name. You’re fuking lips aren’t worthy of his name. I could cut your goddamn tongue from your mouth you self-righteous piece of shit. Don’t try and pretend you care about what Matt wants. You know what Matt wanted? He wanted to wrestle. He wanted to be World Champion. He wanted the career that he was well on his way to having in 2015. You took it all away from him. Now you’re sitting around slurping up drink after drink attempting to look like you’re numbing guilt you don’t really have and only stupid people are buying it. You don’t have guilt, or remorse. Hans called you out from A to Z, you chose to do the things you did and only an idiot would accept your “demon” excuse.

Even if you were sorry it changes nothing. There are thousands of men and women in prison truly remorseful for their crimes but it doesn’t change what they did. It doesn’t bring loved ones back they murdered. It doesn’t take away the PTSD from someone being robbed or raped. It doesn’t give back someone’s health from drugs they put on the streets. It doesn’t replace life savings stolen. They deserve punishment, and victims deserve justice.

I’m not becoming you Maniac. I wouldn’t lower myself to the level of filth you are, I’m better than you, but I will do what no one else has done. I will judge you. I will sentence you. I will rid this industry of you once and for all and then….then I will believe you when you say you’re sorry. Because after you suffer, after I take everything from you, you’ll wish you had made better choices and the whole world will know you mean those words.

I want to toss this phone in anger, but I’m mindful of having replaced two already. I end the message to Maniac, I can’t bring myself to say another word to him right now, but there is someone else I need to speak to and I dial the number. It rings, and rings again….come on Hans pick up…please….it rings again….and goes to voicemail. Shit!

(Jeremy): Hans its Jeremy. I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate but what the hell is going on? Have you spoken with Butch and Wisdom at all? I know I’ve asked before and I’m not trying to put you in an awkward position with your friends but what the hell are they doing? Maniac is out of control and they let him walk around like he’s untouchable.

I just got to Dallas and heard something at the airport here when I arrived that Wolfy is dead, it was all over the news on the screens. That has to be some “work” by Maniac. They’re planning something I know it. He doesn’t regret anything, he’s playing everyone dumb enough to listen to him but you aren’t fooled and neither am I. They’re planning something and I just want you to know I’ve got your back. He can’t be dead can he? What are they claiming happened?

I’m saying more than I planned, asking more than I planned, but I hadn’t talked with Hans since before Havoc and everything is just rushing out of me.

(Jeremy): I don’t understand what Butch and Wisdom are doing. Why does The Professor get a stupid segment on Havoc? Why did Butch “give” Maniac a title shot? It’s so obvious he did. How the hell does a match end and all of a sudden he comes out with “Oh and by the way whoever got the pinfall gets a title shot….congrats Maniac.”

I guess you saw my challenge to him. I don’t care that he rejected my offer. I want that match Hans. I want to beat him at his own game. I want to get rid of him for good and I will. I know I sound like Ahab hunting the white whale but I don’t care. I will hunt him from city to city, from ring to ring until I end him. We can do it unsanctioned. I’ll fight him in some warehouse if he wants, I’ll buy the ring and whole setup myself if I have to.

And Deas! Did you see that shit? Did you see that scumbucket talk about coming back? What conversations has he had with Butch and Wisdom? Why would they even think about letting him back in here? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to unload on you it’s just…I feel my back is up against the wall here. I can’t focus on anything except Maniac. I’m obsessed with bringing him down, I can’t think, I can’t sleep, I don’t even know what day it is half the time. I won’t let him get his hands on that title Hans, you and I both know he can’t be champion. If I even think Stu-E is going down, I’ll be out there to stop it, I’m just being honest with you. I will….I’ll ruin the whole match if need be. I won’t….

My phone cuts off and I realize the battery has died. Shit! Good thing I used the cars’ GPS to navigate to the hotel instead of my phone. I get back in the car and drive off merging back into traffic and head towards the hotel.

Fade to black!