Post by "Punk" Drake Hunter on Jul 30, 2012 0:12:42 GMT -5
*"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."
I've always wondered what it was like to be hiding behind a veil of superficiality, selfishness and complete and utter disregard for everything that's happening around you.
People experience terrible trauma. Some never recover from it, and yet some seem to brush it away as if it was nothing. In fact, some adopt a completely different lifestyle to the one they first conceived after going through something so horrific, it totally changes their being. The most common form of this is superficiality. Now, i'm sorry if you've started reading this entry and immediately are turned off by the theoretical shit, but bare with me for a moment.
The word superficial is defined as being shallow or prejudiced, not daring to go into the specifics and often taking a one sided point of view. This can be viewed in a person as somebody who cares only about themselves, ignoring the specifics of problems and simply neglecting anything negative said or done to them. Something not lacking in MPW.
There are some who choose to be superficial because they simply think they're better than everybody else. Johnny Clash.
There are some who are superficial by nature, because they don't know anything else. Mr. Tic Tac himself, Rage.
there are those who are superficial because of traumas that may have occurred in the past and have forced them to change, as the sun forces a plant to change through growth.
And then there's those whose lifestyle mimics that of the people they are trying to replicate, those who are superficial for the absolute hell of it. These are people who are naturally stuck up, snobby and complete assholes. These are the people like Jackson Blaze.
I used to be superficial. I used to let the things that happened to me in the past get to me, and i used to want to change the way i lived, changed the way i viewed the world. But case in point, the very thing that happened was that i became oblivious to everything that was happening around me, oblivious to the simplest things and only viewing things from the point of view of a championship, the point of view in which power becomes obsessive, and the very thing that holds me back is my lust to keep control.
And this past Monday, it seemed as if that superficiality caught up with me.
A man by the name of Johnny Clash has been causing a bit of a stir inside MPW at the moment. The very thing that caused NYCCW to crash and burn to it's demise has been publically exposed. Yes, that's right, my so-called "Evil" deeds have been presented to the public, and i have been "exposed" as the man who apparently brought down the old New York City Championship Wrestling.
Now let me first explain that everything Johnny said was true, well almost every word. However, it was the way he said it that brought things open to speculation. The way he presented the facts to my face inside that ring, inside that Las Vegas stadium, in my new home, the way he spat in my face and the very things he said. To say the least, i haven't been in the best mood lately. And yet, that one word kept staring at me when i looked in the mirror. With every word that i kept remembering, every single stab in my heart as the words that emanated from that man's mouth cut me open piece by painful piece.
And yet, i felt quite a comforting feeling when i walked off, when i refused to give in to Clash and his ways. The pang of guilt that i had stabbing into my side was vanquished as quickly as it came about when i walked off, not giving Johnny the satisfaction of getting a reaction from me.
That word that i mentioned, the one that kept staring back at me as i looked at myself in the mirror, just like i'd done when i was running NYCCW, when i took control of the company from Ace, when i hired Sockface, when i began writing the shows, when i was attacked by H4ck3r, that one word - Truth. The truth nowadays is so hard to come by, so hard to completely and totally get correct. There are so many ways of twisting the truth so that it favors a point of view, or another distorted fact or opinion. The Truth is completely void in this world full of superficiality, and it takes somebody exceptionally honest to present the truth as it stands, without distorting it in any shape or form.
Unfortunately, Mr. Clash is not particularly honest, and neither are many people in this company matter of factly. The only person i knew i could trust in this company is now gone, and i feel more alone than ever before. Now back onto the topic, Johnny Clash has never particularly been a trustworthy man, even before the Total Wanking Icons were formed and he teamed up with the man i'll be facing this week. And unfortunately for me, the untrustworthy Johnny Clash seems to have masked the truth behind a quest for vengeance, and to prove that he is better than me. And THAT'S a lie. Johnny will never be better than me, because he is nothing but a short man with a huge ego, an ego too big for his own good.
The truth will come out eventually, and when it does i will prove to the world that Johnny is nothing more than a small man trying to pump up his ego, and when i do, the whole world will see him for what he is. A good-for-nothing asshole.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wake, still not used to sleeping alone in the massive condo. As i pull the cold white sheets off my torso i sit up in the bed, shaking my head slightly as i run a warm hand through my hair, taking a moment to press the tips of my two forefingers together and squeezing the blonde tips on my hair just to make sure i'm awake. I pull a short hair out of my head - yep, definitely awake, and as i flick it off the bed and i make it to my head, i stretch my neck, twisting it around in a circular motion before i slowly, and half-asleep i might add - walk over to the curtain and open the two pieces of fabric, revealing the cloudless Las Vegas summer morning.
I still can't get used to not having Lexi here with me in the mornings, at night, hell even when we've gone our separate ways during the day, i always knew that when i'd return home i'd be able to cuddle up to my girlfriend. Well, no more. She's back off to Canada to look after her family, and i'm left alone in an empty condo.
I can't say that Johnny's words didn't hurt a bit, but it was more of a trigger that sparked something deep inside me. It was a realization, it made me realize a thirst, a thirst for vengeance, and a thirst to win. To beat Johnny Clash. To finally rid myself of this nagging little insignificant twat who seems to think that he's the king of the world. It was a realization to finally end his pitiful existence of a career.
I sit back down on my bed and i pull on a shirt and some socks, before i reach over and turn on my phone. I click the top "On" button on the small iPhone and check my messages.
YOU HAVE 2 NEW MESSAGES
One was from somebody trying to sell me something, but the other surprised me a little.
Nekia: Hey, do you wanna meet me at that cafe near ur condo u mentioned?
I smile a little, it's been a while since i saw my old friend Raven face to face. Sure would bring back memories.
Me: Sure thing. C u in an hour.
I click the phone back to a hibernation mode and return to putting my clothes on. As i do, my phone buzzes once again and i click the button once again, expecting to see a message from Raven replying to my previous one. And as i click it to open the main screen, pressing on the messages screen, i see not just one, but instead i see two messages. It's odd, it was only three seconds ago that i checked. I open the first one from an unknown number and see somebody wanting an interview with me about the recent happenings in MPW. I reply with a yes without even checking the name of the interviewer, and as i browse back i'm finally able to see the name. It's somebody from Pro Wrestling Insider called Anna Pearce. Where've i heard that name before?
Not really caring about the interview, i open Raven's message and see that she's already within ten minutes of the cafe, and that i should meet her there in twenty minutes. Swearing multiple times, i pull off the shirt i just pulled on and ditch my phone on the bed-side table as i step into the bathroom and twist the two knobs so that a jet of warm water gushes from the large shower-head. The water is soothing, calming my nerves and getting me ready for all the shit that's going to happen today, and i know it's going to happen - there's no avoiding it.
Ten minutes pass before i'm finally able to physically separate myself from the comforting warmth of the water, and as i step out of the shower and remember that i have barely ten minutes before i'm to meet Raven, i slap on some jeans and a tank top, before pulling on my signature Punk jacket. It's got a skull across the front and the words "Sweet Dreams" emblazoned along the back, with a fire background behind it to symbolize the burning fire of the Punk. Finally, with just two or three minutes before i was supposed to meet her, i exit the door of the condo, hurrying down to the elevator and reaching the bottom with a soft thud. After two or three minutes i reach the small cafe, named Sofia's, and as i enter the double doors i see her sitting by the window, checking her phone. As she sees me enter she stands and smiles, pushing her chair back and walking up to greet me.
"Drake! It's so good to see you!"
"You too Rae, looks like you haven't been doin' too badly. Still got the physique..." I tilt my head sideways and look at her fully toned body, and i'm immediately released from my trance as i feel a backhand to my chest. "Hey!"
"Stop looking."
I smile cheekily, all the memories of the past few days forgotten as i stay here with an old friend.
"So what about you? You're still looking in as good a shape as ever." She says, sitting back down as i pull the chair out and sit down as well.
"Yeah, well i've been keeping at it. As you probably know, i signed for MPW about a month ago and it's going pretty well. Well, it WAS."
"Yeah, i saw that." There's a moment of somber silence between us and we recollect the words of Johnny Clash, but after a few seconds i eventually make the effort to snap us out of it.
"So how's the baby doing? Is she cute?"
"Yeah, she's doing really well. Claire's just the most adorable thing ever."
"That's sweet."
"Yeah, she's my little angel. Again, i'm so sorry i couldn't stay, but i had to make a choice-"
"Nekia." I cut her off and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, i understand. I would've made the same choice, well probably."
A waitress comes over and asks if we want drinks. We both say yes, and then both order different types of coffee, me going for the more stronger variant due to my rather slow start in the morning.
"So, about that thing you were talking to me about before..." Raven says, leaning forward and discussing something of most importance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was over an hour before i was out of the cafe and on my way to MPW headquarters, which thankfully wasn't far enough that i had to hail a cab. Now i'm outside MPW headquarters, walking towards a woman with her back turned to me. She has a strikingly tall frame, with a thin build - she looks like a supermodel rather than a reporter, and if it weren't for the microphone tucked into her pocket or the cameraman standing next to her trying to get the right shot for the interview, i would have suspected her to be a model. It was when she turned around however, that the true recognition flooded through my mind.
Anna Pearce.
No wonder i recognized the name. No wonder a small sense of insecurity secretly sneaked it's way into my mind when i read the message - Dammit! i should've connected the dots when i saw the message.
"Well, well, if it isn't the so-called "Punk". She takes a couple of steps towards me as i get cautiously closer to my interviewer, and she reaches out her arm, offering a handshake. I tenderly accept it, and as i do i feel the same soft skin that i felt when i was eighteen years old, still wrestling in the AWA. The same soft hands that used to tell me it would all be alright, or squeeze me tight whenever i achieved something brilliant (which was usually the case). She was the one person i always used to be able to trust, always could make everything alright.
"No way....Alyssa?"
Alyssa Young. Her in ring name used to be Anna Pearce, back in the old days. That's right, my old girlfriend, the one person in the world who was closest to my heart until our bond was broken by a man in a black paintball outfit, and i moved on to Lexi. The last i saw of her was when she confronted me in my apartment and asked for me back. I had the feeling she'd never got over that moment, but here she is now, my interviewer on all things happening in MPW.
"You can't seriously be an interviewer? What happened to wrestling?" I ask, completely bewildered on what's going on.
"I quit, it didn't excite me anymore after you left."
"Hey, hey, hey, let's get something straight. YOU left ME, Lyss. Hacker scared you off. I had nothing to do with it."
"Alright, fair enough. So, are we gonna do this or what?"
Somewhat hesitant about having an interview with my ex-girlfriend, a woman i shared my most intimate thoughts and feelings with, i scratch my head for a moment, before finally nodding and telling her to get on with it.
"Okay," She starts, "So, what was your reaction to Johnny Clash's recent rant, exposing your actions inside NYCCW?"
I smile, knowing that she'd start with this question, as anybody would.
"Johnny Clash is nothing but a small boy with a large man's ego. He thinks he's soooo tough. The thing is though, if i looked under that exterior of a hard, albeit tiny shell - not that i would anytime soon, because seriously, who knows where that man's been - i'd see nothing but a small man desperately seeking the attention he so desperately desires. All those things he said were just a desperate attempt to make himself look bigger and stronger than he actually is."
"But all those things he said-"
"I'm not denying any of the facts, but the way he presented them clouded the opinions of some people. I may have done many of those things, but the reasons he presented were totally wrong."
"Can you give us an example, of these misguided reasons?" She says, her beautiful voice still as melodic and wondrous as ever. Her tight top is still perfectly revealing and her shorts similarly enticing, and as i study her face i see she still hasn't changed a bit since we were sixteen years old and we met in the AWA.
"Well, if somebody had told me that that sock-faced little troll and a man in a paintball suit would be the end of NYCCW, i would've called them insane and rang their mothers so that both of them could go to the mental asylum. As it turned out, they was the one that should have ended up in the mental asylum. But as it turned out, i was wrong for hiring Sockface, and the other directors were completely wrong for hiring Willy, because he DID bring down NYCCW. And guess what? So did Johnny."
"Care to explain?"
"Johnny's True Wanking Icons brought down the foundations of NYCCW. They wreaked so much havoc that there was no way we could recover, especially when the controversy came and brought down the whole fucking thing, right on our heads. Johnny and his goons were the full reason NYCCW was left vulnerable to big Willy Turner's pranks and Sockface's little dummy spits. They did exactly what they're doing in MPW: running around, giving everybody hell and pretending that they'll actually ever become something other than a sideshow act. And in Vegas, there's plenty of those around. Clash, Rage, Tavares, hell, even that old arthritic fart Bob Herman is part of it. Because of the chaos they caused, it fell, simple as that."
"And what about your match with Rage?"
"Pfft, Rage is simply a stepping stone. This week, i move closer to Johnny. That's it."
"Well Drake Hunter, thank you for your time."
"Anytime, Miss. Young." I smile, as i walk into MPW HQ and i get ready to inch closer and closer to Johnny Clash.
I've always wondered what it was like to be hiding behind a veil of superficiality, selfishness and complete and utter disregard for everything that's happening around you.
People experience terrible trauma. Some never recover from it, and yet some seem to brush it away as if it was nothing. In fact, some adopt a completely different lifestyle to the one they first conceived after going through something so horrific, it totally changes their being. The most common form of this is superficiality. Now, i'm sorry if you've started reading this entry and immediately are turned off by the theoretical shit, but bare with me for a moment.
The word superficial is defined as being shallow or prejudiced, not daring to go into the specifics and often taking a one sided point of view. This can be viewed in a person as somebody who cares only about themselves, ignoring the specifics of problems and simply neglecting anything negative said or done to them. Something not lacking in MPW.
There are some who choose to be superficial because they simply think they're better than everybody else. Johnny Clash.
There are some who are superficial by nature, because they don't know anything else. Mr. Tic Tac himself, Rage.
there are those who are superficial because of traumas that may have occurred in the past and have forced them to change, as the sun forces a plant to change through growth.
And then there's those whose lifestyle mimics that of the people they are trying to replicate, those who are superficial for the absolute hell of it. These are people who are naturally stuck up, snobby and complete assholes. These are the people like Jackson Blaze.
I used to be superficial. I used to let the things that happened to me in the past get to me, and i used to want to change the way i lived, changed the way i viewed the world. But case in point, the very thing that happened was that i became oblivious to everything that was happening around me, oblivious to the simplest things and only viewing things from the point of view of a championship, the point of view in which power becomes obsessive, and the very thing that holds me back is my lust to keep control.
And this past Monday, it seemed as if that superficiality caught up with me.
A man by the name of Johnny Clash has been causing a bit of a stir inside MPW at the moment. The very thing that caused NYCCW to crash and burn to it's demise has been publically exposed. Yes, that's right, my so-called "Evil" deeds have been presented to the public, and i have been "exposed" as the man who apparently brought down the old New York City Championship Wrestling.
Now let me first explain that everything Johnny said was true, well almost every word. However, it was the way he said it that brought things open to speculation. The way he presented the facts to my face inside that ring, inside that Las Vegas stadium, in my new home, the way he spat in my face and the very things he said. To say the least, i haven't been in the best mood lately. And yet, that one word kept staring at me when i looked in the mirror. With every word that i kept remembering, every single stab in my heart as the words that emanated from that man's mouth cut me open piece by painful piece.
And yet, i felt quite a comforting feeling when i walked off, when i refused to give in to Clash and his ways. The pang of guilt that i had stabbing into my side was vanquished as quickly as it came about when i walked off, not giving Johnny the satisfaction of getting a reaction from me.
That word that i mentioned, the one that kept staring back at me as i looked at myself in the mirror, just like i'd done when i was running NYCCW, when i took control of the company from Ace, when i hired Sockface, when i began writing the shows, when i was attacked by H4ck3r, that one word - Truth. The truth nowadays is so hard to come by, so hard to completely and totally get correct. There are so many ways of twisting the truth so that it favors a point of view, or another distorted fact or opinion. The Truth is completely void in this world full of superficiality, and it takes somebody exceptionally honest to present the truth as it stands, without distorting it in any shape or form.
Unfortunately, Mr. Clash is not particularly honest, and neither are many people in this company matter of factly. The only person i knew i could trust in this company is now gone, and i feel more alone than ever before. Now back onto the topic, Johnny Clash has never particularly been a trustworthy man, even before the Total Wanking Icons were formed and he teamed up with the man i'll be facing this week. And unfortunately for me, the untrustworthy Johnny Clash seems to have masked the truth behind a quest for vengeance, and to prove that he is better than me. And THAT'S a lie. Johnny will never be better than me, because he is nothing but a short man with a huge ego, an ego too big for his own good.
The truth will come out eventually, and when it does i will prove to the world that Johnny is nothing more than a small man trying to pump up his ego, and when i do, the whole world will see him for what he is. A good-for-nothing asshole.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wake, still not used to sleeping alone in the massive condo. As i pull the cold white sheets off my torso i sit up in the bed, shaking my head slightly as i run a warm hand through my hair, taking a moment to press the tips of my two forefingers together and squeezing the blonde tips on my hair just to make sure i'm awake. I pull a short hair out of my head - yep, definitely awake, and as i flick it off the bed and i make it to my head, i stretch my neck, twisting it around in a circular motion before i slowly, and half-asleep i might add - walk over to the curtain and open the two pieces of fabric, revealing the cloudless Las Vegas summer morning.
I still can't get used to not having Lexi here with me in the mornings, at night, hell even when we've gone our separate ways during the day, i always knew that when i'd return home i'd be able to cuddle up to my girlfriend. Well, no more. She's back off to Canada to look after her family, and i'm left alone in an empty condo.
I can't say that Johnny's words didn't hurt a bit, but it was more of a trigger that sparked something deep inside me. It was a realization, it made me realize a thirst, a thirst for vengeance, and a thirst to win. To beat Johnny Clash. To finally rid myself of this nagging little insignificant twat who seems to think that he's the king of the world. It was a realization to finally end his pitiful existence of a career.
I sit back down on my bed and i pull on a shirt and some socks, before i reach over and turn on my phone. I click the top "On" button on the small iPhone and check my messages.
YOU HAVE 2 NEW MESSAGES
One was from somebody trying to sell me something, but the other surprised me a little.
Nekia: Hey, do you wanna meet me at that cafe near ur condo u mentioned?
I smile a little, it's been a while since i saw my old friend Raven face to face. Sure would bring back memories.
Me: Sure thing. C u in an hour.
I click the phone back to a hibernation mode and return to putting my clothes on. As i do, my phone buzzes once again and i click the button once again, expecting to see a message from Raven replying to my previous one. And as i click it to open the main screen, pressing on the messages screen, i see not just one, but instead i see two messages. It's odd, it was only three seconds ago that i checked. I open the first one from an unknown number and see somebody wanting an interview with me about the recent happenings in MPW. I reply with a yes without even checking the name of the interviewer, and as i browse back i'm finally able to see the name. It's somebody from Pro Wrestling Insider called Anna Pearce. Where've i heard that name before?
Not really caring about the interview, i open Raven's message and see that she's already within ten minutes of the cafe, and that i should meet her there in twenty minutes. Swearing multiple times, i pull off the shirt i just pulled on and ditch my phone on the bed-side table as i step into the bathroom and twist the two knobs so that a jet of warm water gushes from the large shower-head. The water is soothing, calming my nerves and getting me ready for all the shit that's going to happen today, and i know it's going to happen - there's no avoiding it.
Ten minutes pass before i'm finally able to physically separate myself from the comforting warmth of the water, and as i step out of the shower and remember that i have barely ten minutes before i'm to meet Raven, i slap on some jeans and a tank top, before pulling on my signature Punk jacket. It's got a skull across the front and the words "Sweet Dreams" emblazoned along the back, with a fire background behind it to symbolize the burning fire of the Punk. Finally, with just two or three minutes before i was supposed to meet her, i exit the door of the condo, hurrying down to the elevator and reaching the bottom with a soft thud. After two or three minutes i reach the small cafe, named Sofia's, and as i enter the double doors i see her sitting by the window, checking her phone. As she sees me enter she stands and smiles, pushing her chair back and walking up to greet me.
"Drake! It's so good to see you!"
"You too Rae, looks like you haven't been doin' too badly. Still got the physique..." I tilt my head sideways and look at her fully toned body, and i'm immediately released from my trance as i feel a backhand to my chest. "Hey!"
"Stop looking."
I smile cheekily, all the memories of the past few days forgotten as i stay here with an old friend.
"So what about you? You're still looking in as good a shape as ever." She says, sitting back down as i pull the chair out and sit down as well.
"Yeah, well i've been keeping at it. As you probably know, i signed for MPW about a month ago and it's going pretty well. Well, it WAS."
"Yeah, i saw that." There's a moment of somber silence between us and we recollect the words of Johnny Clash, but after a few seconds i eventually make the effort to snap us out of it.
"So how's the baby doing? Is she cute?"
"Yeah, she's doing really well. Claire's just the most adorable thing ever."
"That's sweet."
"Yeah, she's my little angel. Again, i'm so sorry i couldn't stay, but i had to make a choice-"
"Nekia." I cut her off and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, i understand. I would've made the same choice, well probably."
A waitress comes over and asks if we want drinks. We both say yes, and then both order different types of coffee, me going for the more stronger variant due to my rather slow start in the morning.
"So, about that thing you were talking to me about before..." Raven says, leaning forward and discussing something of most importance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was over an hour before i was out of the cafe and on my way to MPW headquarters, which thankfully wasn't far enough that i had to hail a cab. Now i'm outside MPW headquarters, walking towards a woman with her back turned to me. She has a strikingly tall frame, with a thin build - she looks like a supermodel rather than a reporter, and if it weren't for the microphone tucked into her pocket or the cameraman standing next to her trying to get the right shot for the interview, i would have suspected her to be a model. It was when she turned around however, that the true recognition flooded through my mind.
Anna Pearce.
No wonder i recognized the name. No wonder a small sense of insecurity secretly sneaked it's way into my mind when i read the message - Dammit! i should've connected the dots when i saw the message.
"Well, well, if it isn't the so-called "Punk". She takes a couple of steps towards me as i get cautiously closer to my interviewer, and she reaches out her arm, offering a handshake. I tenderly accept it, and as i do i feel the same soft skin that i felt when i was eighteen years old, still wrestling in the AWA. The same soft hands that used to tell me it would all be alright, or squeeze me tight whenever i achieved something brilliant (which was usually the case). She was the one person i always used to be able to trust, always could make everything alright.
"No way....Alyssa?"
Alyssa Young. Her in ring name used to be Anna Pearce, back in the old days. That's right, my old girlfriend, the one person in the world who was closest to my heart until our bond was broken by a man in a black paintball outfit, and i moved on to Lexi. The last i saw of her was when she confronted me in my apartment and asked for me back. I had the feeling she'd never got over that moment, but here she is now, my interviewer on all things happening in MPW.
"You can't seriously be an interviewer? What happened to wrestling?" I ask, completely bewildered on what's going on.
"I quit, it didn't excite me anymore after you left."
"Hey, hey, hey, let's get something straight. YOU left ME, Lyss. Hacker scared you off. I had nothing to do with it."
"Alright, fair enough. So, are we gonna do this or what?"
Somewhat hesitant about having an interview with my ex-girlfriend, a woman i shared my most intimate thoughts and feelings with, i scratch my head for a moment, before finally nodding and telling her to get on with it.
"Okay," She starts, "So, what was your reaction to Johnny Clash's recent rant, exposing your actions inside NYCCW?"
I smile, knowing that she'd start with this question, as anybody would.
"Johnny Clash is nothing but a small boy with a large man's ego. He thinks he's soooo tough. The thing is though, if i looked under that exterior of a hard, albeit tiny shell - not that i would anytime soon, because seriously, who knows where that man's been - i'd see nothing but a small man desperately seeking the attention he so desperately desires. All those things he said were just a desperate attempt to make himself look bigger and stronger than he actually is."
"But all those things he said-"
"I'm not denying any of the facts, but the way he presented them clouded the opinions of some people. I may have done many of those things, but the reasons he presented were totally wrong."
"Can you give us an example, of these misguided reasons?" She says, her beautiful voice still as melodic and wondrous as ever. Her tight top is still perfectly revealing and her shorts similarly enticing, and as i study her face i see she still hasn't changed a bit since we were sixteen years old and we met in the AWA.
"Well, if somebody had told me that that sock-faced little troll and a man in a paintball suit would be the end of NYCCW, i would've called them insane and rang their mothers so that both of them could go to the mental asylum. As it turned out, they was the one that should have ended up in the mental asylum. But as it turned out, i was wrong for hiring Sockface, and the other directors were completely wrong for hiring Willy, because he DID bring down NYCCW. And guess what? So did Johnny."
"Care to explain?"
"Johnny's True Wanking Icons brought down the foundations of NYCCW. They wreaked so much havoc that there was no way we could recover, especially when the controversy came and brought down the whole fucking thing, right on our heads. Johnny and his goons were the full reason NYCCW was left vulnerable to big Willy Turner's pranks and Sockface's little dummy spits. They did exactly what they're doing in MPW: running around, giving everybody hell and pretending that they'll actually ever become something other than a sideshow act. And in Vegas, there's plenty of those around. Clash, Rage, Tavares, hell, even that old arthritic fart Bob Herman is part of it. Because of the chaos they caused, it fell, simple as that."
"And what about your match with Rage?"
"Pfft, Rage is simply a stepping stone. This week, i move closer to Johnny. That's it."
"Well Drake Hunter, thank you for your time."
"Anytime, Miss. Young." I smile, as i walk into MPW HQ and i get ready to inch closer and closer to Johnny Clash.