Supreme Championship Wrestling

Full Version: Match 3: Lucas Knight (SCW Alum) vs. David Callahan (SCW Alum)
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Event Date: September 28, 2019
Venue: Indianapolis, IN - Indiana Farmers Coliseum

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Ace

OOC: This role-play contains visuals, statements, inappropriate jokes and language people will inevitably find offensive. You've been warned.



The God of Wrestling, Part One: Fuck wrestlers, fuck their fans and fuck their families. Fuck them all with double-sided, spiked, and dipped in acid dildos made out of laser beams




Once upon a time, I loved wrestling. This was a long ass time ago.


By wrestling I mean professional wrestling. Where everyone is a giant narcissist who babbles on about how great they are before resorting to chairs, five billion people interfering, and ten stray bullets to hit the seventy-five pound woman they're facing to finally manage to have the strength to pin them to the mat for three seconds. It's not the wrestling in high school or in college stuff, because that Ancient Greek shit is flat out gay. You don't have the shining bright lights, the booming theme songs, the absurd moves that would literally do nothing but probably get you murdered in a real fight or the level of attractiveness anywhere else outside of Hollywood and porn.


As a child and a fan, it's so easy to get mesmerized by all of this. I was obsessed. It's magic in an otherwise boring world. We look to our entertainment for strife. At least I did. I remember sneaking into my first show. It's not like tickets were expensive or anything, especially at that small gig. I just grew up broke as can be in the lovely shit hole we all know as Detroit. I was fifteen. Sophie came with me when I said I could get us tickets. To be fair to myself, I was convinced I could get tickets by being a God damn ninja and ripping them out from behind the counter whenever the guy there turned his head. No, I wasn't a stupid fifteen year old, just one with a fantastic imagination.


This didn't happen. While I would later on throughout much of my life make a habit out of sneaking into places I wasn't supposed to be, she was the one who decided to just go in. Which only felt fitting, she was the one who got me into wrestling to begin with. Along with alcohol, cigarettes and a disdain for people who had more than us. Of course, my disdain would grow for humanity and we both on our own would find ourselves a love for every narcotic mankind could produce.


The show was amazing. Now, I couldn't tell you a single performer from that show. I have no clue who did what. I think one guy fell and bounced his head off the apron in an uncomfortable moment of bewilderment and alarm. Maybe he died? Fuck if I know, that's not what is important here. The important bit from this show was at some point during it Sophie kissed me. This was a big deal to me because at the time and pretty much from then on I had a giant crush on her and she liked fucking around with men in their early twenties who drove cars and probably had twenty inch cocks. I was a boy who couldn't drive and I didn't have a twenty inch cock. It just wasn't a fair battle for me. This was a very rare time in my life. It was a time where I in that moment developed hope from something as simple and innocent as lips meeting lips.


Hope is a terrible and meaningless concept but it makes for a fantastic lesson in life. Hope exists to crush your feelings and show you what reality is. Write this down children; Reality is a sadistic tyrant.


Sophie left home shortly after. I kind of got the hint she never wanted to be home anyways, what with the whole will do anything to avoid it. I didn't know if her dad was throwing her the dick or something. I wouldn't have blamed him, I wanted to too. However had she asked I probably would have murdered her family. Spent the next three lifetimes in a cell somewhere never getting visits. Life would have sucked but that's just what you're willing to endure for love, damn it.


Instead I just lost my first and only real crush in life and my best friend. Being sixteen at that point, I can vaguely remember coming home from school to my lifeless grandmother. She'd be sitting in front of a television, never really watching it. Never really muttering a word from her drunken slumber. That shit was depressing after eleven years. I never wanted to be home either. I'd leave and hang out with anyone and everyone I could find willing. I would sleep anywhere that wasn't my bed. One friend had a treehouse. We'd stay up there and I'd even listen to his garbage music and pretend to be into his card game. Then when his parents left I'd goad him into taking us to the liquor cabinet to play a game of drink until it tastes good. It went too far one night and I couldn't play with that friend anymore.
That was something I guess I missed out on was proper parenting. Because I never asked for permission for shit. If I wanted to drink, I drank. If I wanted to smoke, I smoked. If I was horny well, that was the one exception I guess. I have yet to rape anyone which I guess is a good thing. Either I fucked or I jerked off. Even if someone was willing to let me fuck them I still likely jerked off that night. I probably spent the entirety of my teenage years at a certain point smoking, drinking, chasing a potential host for my parasitic ass and jerking off. I could stub my toe and get an erection but that's normal I think.


It took me a long time to realize it but I never in life really aspired for anything. Not once. Even with wrestling, wrestling was never my dream. It was Sophie's dream and my way of trying to find her. Everything I've ever chased outside of biological cravings and wants I've taken from someone else. Do I have a single original thought or notion? Am I real or just a machine? A water and meat-filled programable fuckwit. I don't know. It's how I see everyone else, how am I any different?


Whatever drive people have to be their own people, I don't have one. I don't have a life mission. If I had one I accomplished it already. Were it up to me society would probably just be one giant mosh pit with orgies, stockpiles of cocaine and dark corners to hide and jerk off when you're tired of participating in the orgies.


We'd never progress as a society. There would just be the stench of death and cum everywhere.


Later on I'd become a wrestler. Later on I'd reconnect and actually be in the relationship I always wanted to be in with Sophie. Later on we'd win the Tag Team Championship belts in the biggest promotion in the world. And later on I'd stop looking at wrestling or the people involved in it as the superstars they've spent generations building themselves up to be.


It's like when you're a kid and you look up to your mentors or adults in general. I don't know. Then you become an adult and realize in that moment that the people you looked up to are just as stupid and flawed as you are.

In wrestling it's worse. It's not an act. It's not for fun. These people are legitimately this self obsessed, this psychotic mess of delusion and grandeur. They believe their own hype, they love the smell of their own shit; hell, they probably fucking eat it convinced of their divine nature. They go on twitter and post the entire timeline of their supposed lives, talking about how great of a time they're having. They're having such a great time they have to distract themselves from the fun, it's just too much. Everyone else needs to see how sexy they think they are. If you're in a relationship with one of these lunatics you better post a picture of them every other day and tell the world how lucky you are or some stupid shit or they'll probably slit their wrists.


These pathetic fucking narcissists are roleplaying their own lives on display like it's Twitter Meets Real World and they don't want to be voted off the island. Is that Big Brother? I don't know. I don't fucking care, they're posing as people with lives because if you talk to them backstage, they talk and act like the sound bytes to their promos. Fucking soulless puppets who for the love of God need to remind you that their lives are in fact great and they are hot. If I haven't gotten the picture through here, wrestlers are fake and vain bitches with the actual personalities of instagram models.


They're terrible human beings. Don't idolize these monsters. That includes me, although I know there is no legit reason to fear that. Would fans remember me? Doubt it.


I was shocked I even got in. I remember getting the phone call while sitting on the toilet playing Clash of Clans.


"I am in the tournament?! Fucking a-plus man!"


"It's not that surprising. World renown competitors get in easier," The agent had responded. "Even the less successful world renown ones."


I was so happy at the time, my ego ignored the verbal jab to the balls. The God of Wrestling Tournament didn't come around very often and you never knew who was going to participate in it. Usually half of the thing would be premised of the SCW roster but then you'd get some fresh blood in there too. I just wanted to win so I could call myself a God and tell everyone in the wrestling world to suck it. I wanted to win for someone else who deserved to be in it far more than I did. I wanted to win hoping it'd pay the bills. I wanted to participate just so I had an excuse to quit my part-time job as a casino mascot.

If you've been to Vegas any time recently you may have seen in one casino(I refuse to name) a child scaring slot machine with eyes, legs and arms. That was either Jerry, Amanda or me.

Now, you may be wondering why, oh fucking why would I be wrestling if I hate it so much? Ignoring the reasons I just listed as to why I'd want to win. That's easy. I'm not really equipped to do anything else legitimate. Even this mascot job is only going to last until I am caught taking chips and the free drinks offered to every person in the casino looking to have won a buck or two. I am a heathen. A heathen who despite being disenfranchised know there aren't too many better jobs out there for me. I tried selling drugs there for a while. I didn't like having to look over my shoulder all the time, waiting for the crackhead or thug who was going to stick me up. Plus I was using it which makes for a terrible business model. The profit margin goes to shit.


What else is a passion? I tried working at a bar. That job was okay I guess. Apparently you're not a good bartender if you give out free drinks trying to bribe the panties off the patrons and being drunk all the time is frowned upon too.


I wanted to try porn but after dating a porn star that ended. She made my narcissism look childish in comparison. I loved poking fun of her. Most porn stars I swear to God are like hobbits. It's easier to make those rich directors look hung like horses when they're shooting with tiny women.


Most people would settle for real jobs at some point but I refuse to. My goal is to do fuck and all generally until I hit fifty, at which point I shoot myself in the face live on a social media platform. Or go be one of those school shooters or something and get gunned down by police while screaming Lucifer and the end is nigh. I'd leave a suicide note and farewell, blaming General Mills and the Illuminati.


It would be my last act of being edgy.


I guess that is one thing that killed my drive in wrestling, nothing is really sacred anymore. Nothing is out there or taboo. To be edgy now I'd have to go out clean shaven, dressed up praising Jesus Christ. Everyone is an atheist now and they hate the Christian God. Wrestling under the name Jesus Christ would do nothing for me. Everyone is a drunk, a hedonist, a narcissistic mess of this is me!


If not a Christian I'd have to go join the Klu Klux Klan and cut promos on killing all niggers and fags or something. While this would do fantastically at turning the world against me, it wasn't really viable. I'd never work anywhere ever again. Just blacklisted from every promotion around the world. I mean, maybe I could wrestle in Saudi Arabia, I don't know.


So no edgy front or gimmick. I am just going to be me. Which is pretty boring.


I was going to try this year to be more optimistic. Maybe I could cut these short parodies on the show giving tips on how to better your life and be happy? I don't know. I was just told everyone is getting time on every show to say their piece which sounded painful. I hope we're not being required to watch all of this.


There are only so many times I can listen to someone on the spectrum go on a rant over their own percieved superiority. I just wish I could help the rosters of the world in their epic quest to finally be able to bend themselves in half so they can rightly blow themselves. Or I guess lick themselves seeing as half of this tournament is going to be premised of some obnoxious women going on about how they'll be the Goddess of Wrestling because they've been oppressed for so fucking long, Goddess damn it now is the time to fight the penis and take the power! or something. I swear to all the cloud deities if I have to ever see another Syren life as a woman promo in my life I'm going to complain about it.


Taking a drag from my cigarette and probably what was left of my dignity, I continue pondering. I like gimmicks. Wrestling was supposed to be a legitimate alternative to the circus. Not an alternative to Housewives of the OC. Everything else is so dull.


"Ya know," I start while still debating what I was going to say. I had to pause and take another drag. "Lucas Knight, while you sit there and judge... Um. Hmmm."


I have no clue just yet what I should say on the air. Staring at Lucas Knight even now, face to face, I don't know if I should even be directing my words toward him. I'm sure he'll give some generic smug speech and make it clear he's looking forward to smacking David Helms in the third round because we really needed half of the 2011 SCW main event in this fucking tournament well after they're all retired. Between Steward, Cruze, Valley clown, Helms, Knight, Hudson, and the carcass of what was once known as Thirteen, no one else in this tournament is likely expected to win.


Not only are we not expected to win, I imagine no one really wants us to either. Fans will be showing up wanting nostalgia and to cheer them. Everyone else is a nobody compared to these names which I guess makes sense given these fuckers are somehow still alive at the young and spry age of one hundred and seventy-eight.


I hate these people. They retired from the ring and show up randomly in one offs because they didn't bury enough young talent in their careers as head of industry. I guess I should be thankful the old people are sponsoring us with their rum?


Looking between all of the competitors now, or, at least what I set up to be my audience, I grimace. The question keeps nagging at me. Why am I even here?


The teddy bears refuse to respond. I had set nineteen of them around in a semi-circle with little outfits and pieces of paper stapled to their heads, each of one of the competitors. I couldn't find the other four I'd need for the whole tournament. Lost opportunity. It's funny, I remember being in school and being terrible at taking notes. I wasn't anymore, these obstacles had representation. Documented well indeed.


"I am here because fuck what everyone else wants."


Putting my cigarette out over Lucas Knight's eye, I smirk as the paper around the circle curls up and goes black and there is a low hiss as it goes into the teddy bear's black eye. What are those eyes made of again? Plastic? Why am I wondering about something so trivial? Sighing I pull out the pack of smokes and pull another one out. I always chain smoke when I am thinking, so it doesn't happen often.


I start to wonder what they would do if I won. Probably nothing. Make some excuse or pretend it never happened. I can pretend they'd go on a mass suicide endeavor but let's be real, this tournament isn't as important to them as it is to others. I could cut a promo about how much I care about it but the reality is I care about me just as much as they do. I am just nice enough not to go on a speech about me in front of the world. I like making people laugh or boo. It's what we're supposed to do beyond the town and bar hopping or at least that's how I felt growing up and watching it. I romanticized the industry like I romanticize everything. It's why I am always let down. Probably now why I am so jaded.


While I had fun going out and finding a way to steal teddy bears one and two at a time for this exercise because fuck my life, the charm of this exercise had died almost as soon as it had be begun. I want to do something special God damn it. It's how my ego gets it's fix I guess.


Instead of focusing on how to accomplish this I am now watching videos on youtube with my phone that is resting on it's own little stand on the floor and doing arm curls with some weights. I don't have a TV. Outside of a mattress laying in the center of the room I don't have much of anything. Don't need anything beyond the tools to my demise, possessions are for bitches. I don't think bottles count as possessions, aren't they perishables? Short-lived commodities. Some doctor was recently in the news for giving out over seventeen-thousand subscriptions to a hardcore pain killer. Man I wish I was one of them.


I don't think people realize how significant that number is.


I also don't think people really care. I really don't either, it's just a fun thought running through my mind now while I look into the soulless eyes of the pieces of paper stuck to the bears. I am going to crash and burn so fucking hard, it doesn't matter how many times I pick these weights up. I am a pathetic loser. I don't have a yacht, I am not married to some famous wrestling family girl, I haven't adopted some kid from the third world country known as New Jersey, I don't have a sexy British accent.


I don't have shit.


I do push ups so my pecs look nice. I'll run later to burn carbs from the restaurant I ran out on. It doesn't matter how many push ups I do because I bet every mother fucker in this tournament not named David Callahan has been knighted by the Queen.


What if the Queen of England was struck by a meteor? Wouldn't that be awesome? It's been the same Queen since fucking World War two. She needs to go already.


I do pull ups from the trim of the door leading into the bathroom, the only feature this shit hole has, even if there is no water. There are three other rooms that I have literally no use for. There isn't power either, not like it matters. I do these pull ups until I fall and hit the floor and it's just as well that my head hurts.


I still can't think of what I want to do on the air. I don't want to be everyone else. I don't want to be anyone else. Didn't I already say I don't have a self? Like who the fuck am I? Just some guy. Some boring, lame fucking guy.


Maybe I'll go at it like the everyday man. Make an appeal to people. You can't tell me everyone is going for the nostalgia. Then when they least expect it I try to go ham on a MAGA chant. I think they'd boo that? I don't know. Make Wrestling Great Again.


Everyone has a catch phrase and it generally is a quick summary as well on the type of idiot they are. I don't have one so I probably don't have a soul.


I start drinking and looking at my cellphone. Waiting for a call. I've been waiting on this call for a while. It's never coming. But if it does I'll be staring at this phone ready for it.


I feel an erection coming. I don't feel like doing anything about it. I am trying to figure out something cool to do on the air, not looking up hardcore threesomes and rape fantasies.


Looking at the bears I am just thinking American Pie now. Taking 'Lucas Knight' I contemplate if I can get off using a teddy bear.
Won't know until I try. Taking this bear with his face on it just gives it serious sentimental value.


"Well Luke, it's come to this. I'll only be slightly more gentle in our match." Rotating the bear over I take both thumbs and index fingers and tear the material back over where I speculate it's asshole would be if it had one.


Unzipping my pants I grab my cock and rub it until it hardens fully. While the cotton initially feels interesting as I set the bear down into a leaning up cow girl position, I just don't see this working. I try anyways, it's not like I am doing anything else tonight. Lucas just keeps smiling. I half debate recording this and posting it on youtube. Everyone would think I am crazy though. Not sure why, they're the lame prudes.


Unsatisfied after maybe five minutes of trying to fuck this teddy bear I fall back while letting it go. That just isn't going to work.


Groaning I go into the bathroom with my phone in one hand and the bottle in the other. With the phone I could at least look up porn but there are also nudes Sophie sent me last year. They will do the job.


Ten minutes later I am walking out of the house I've been squatting in for a couple weeks now. Not too far of a walk, maybe a half hour away at a steady pace from there was is a convenient store. I can buy another pack of smokes and hopefully something flammable. They have WD40 which should do the trick.

I raped a bear, I had to get rid the evidence. I also bought a pair of scissors to cut up the other ones. I would imagine they are real people and maybe drop some acid. I could die tonight and no one would care. Although if I raped Lucas Knight and then used a lighter with WD40 to set him on fire I bet a lot of people would care then. Just fun thoughts I get sometimes. I'd never do this unless of course I had the means to do it and get away with it. Then I would have to debate on whether or not this exercise stood to bring me pleasure.

Taking the bears outside I make a little pile and with the little red straw-thing the WD40 comes with in hand, I begin spraying it over everything in sight. I decided against the acid, I didn't like doing acid alone. I wasn't sure how it would do but the new asshole of Teddy Lucas Knight went up without a problem as the starting point of the teddy bear holocaust.

It was a slow death as the fire grew, the fluffy cotton material didn't burn as fast as I thought it would but it burned none the less. Pulling out the pack I take from it it's last remaining cigarette. It occurred to me people might notice the fire from the distance. I wasn't in Vegas so much as just outside of it in the suburbs. I doubted all of the places here were just empty. Unfortunately I only had a mattress and I needed it for mild comfort. How possessions end up owning ups. If I heard sirens I'd just have to leave. I could get a room somewhere legit but I'd rather spend money on the things in life that matter. The poison that destroys our minds.

I still didn't know what I was going to say on air. Sighing I walk off. The only benefit to Vegas was it never slept and I shouldn't have to go too far to find a red haired prostitute into being dominated. I wish life was exciting. Everything always just ends up being the same normal shit. What was the name of that Nine Inch Nails song? Every day is exactly the same? I reminded myself as I did daily that the only way to change a cycle is to be active, not just say it. I will always have to be the change I want to see. If I wanted to see something exciting I'd have to do it. I just wasn't sure what that would be, the last time I tried bring ostriches and riding them to the ring they were immediately taken from me.

Whatever I do at the God of Wrestling event, I'll have to sneak it in. It's just hard concealing a eight foot tall bird that shits everywhere.

I wanted to prove them wrong. I wanted to prove her wrong. And I wanted nachos. I needed to find a restaurant with nachos.
Knight Residence
Early August 2019
 
The sun was shining the day I made the decision, it was one of the perks of living where I do these days in Santa Monica, CA. A house just a short walk from the beach what more could you ask for out of life, well I’m sure there is more one could ask but when you’re me I felt like I had finally hit the jackpot. It’s no secret my life or career has had its ups and downs over the years, there would be times where I felt I had won big. But ultimately it always led to something or someone pulling the rug up from under me. When I first met my first ex-wife, Kerry she was a diamond in the rough. Beautiful no doubt, I use to love red heads. She was a barmaid actually and a damn fine one at that and our love was real, a whirlwind romance for sure but it was real all the same and the sex, shit the sex was fantastic.
 
But despite all of that when you don’t bat an eyelid at a guy who isn’t me sticking their face in your vagina on TV, that’s when the alarm bells start to sound off just a little. Well I say TV, I think it was on TV... You know what for all intents and purposes I can’t remember if the DRWF was on TV or some shitty internet feed which was bounced off many a satellite and scrubbed through Russia given half the shit that went on at the shows then. How times have changed though over the years.
 
Or I’ve just gotten soft in my old age.
 
There are many stories to tell of course, too many for now and none really good for the ears of my eight year old son whose mother was Kerry but now Trinity… Caleb was sitting at the desk in my office trying to play the role of me, only doing a better job of it with his wrestling toys not to say that I do that myself... The business is funny isn’t it, fans in general are usually funnier. You look at all the talent on SCW’s roster, just look at it and have to laugh when he had developed a fondness of these two guys in masks that had appeared on the shows recently which were hooked on coffee or some shit.
 
Kids these days never ceased to amaze me, especially my own son or Amber for that matter. He though was in his own little world when I walked in and stood against the door with a drink of the Infamously Dangerous spiced Rum, David and I had been working on. We were in the taste testing stages.
 
Trinity and Amber were out visiting Kennedy, so the boy and I were about to have some bonding time…
 
Caleb: “Si senior, I would love coffee to go with my donut!”
 
My chuckle snapped him out of his little world, he looked up at me and grinned happily to see me. He was growing up so fast now. Felt like yesterday I was worried about him when Kerry lost him to Aiken Frost of all people… Honestly despite it all I’m glad nothing came of that, he never developed anything mentally and honestly, I don’t think he remembers, he was young then…
 
Lucas: “You alright mate, having fun?”
 
Caleb: “I’m playing with coffee bros!”
 
Lucas: “I can see, though I don’t think that is their name mate, more like El Starbucko or something…”
 
I shrugged and Caleb laughed as did I.
 
Caleb: “That isn’t their name!”
 
Lucas: “You’re probably right, so what you are doing in here anyway?”
 
I walked into the room taking another sip of the glass finishing its contents and placing it on the desk before lifting him up and taking my seat back only to sit him on the desk now. He had a photo laid out in front of him. One of me and Trinity in the ring…
 
Lucas: “So, I don’t believe this was here earlier.”
 
I now looked down at a drawer where I kept somethings locked away for my own use, must have forgot to lock it…
 
Caleb: “Sowwie… I was just looking…”
 
Lucas: “It’s alright mate, you like this one? Want me to frame it and put it in your room?”
 
He nodded; it wasn’t lost on me that he was beginning to take more notice of pro wrestling lately. I think Trinity’s stint as brief it was in SCW helped ignite that spark. He was too young before to really care and Amber never really took an interest from what I knew. I always wanted to keep him away from it if possible, but kids will be kids…
 
He looked at me and inquisitively before looking back down at the photo…
 
Caleb: “Why don’t you do it anymore?”
 
Lucas: “Do what?”
 
He pointed at the photo, I almost said in response that I do Trinity often but figured that wasn’t suitable for his ears ever and not the answer he was looking for...
 
Lucas: “You mean wrestle?”
 
Caleb: “Yes… How come? Do you hate it now?”
 
I never really thought about it if I were to be honest with myself…
 
Lucas: “Hate it a strong word, you could say I fell out of love with it mate. Sometimes I get the itch that I want to go back, then look at what is going on and think better of it.”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “Why? Because there are a lot of dickheads in it…”
 
His eyes lit up at the sound of that word and he covered his mouth before giggling…
 
Lucas: “Shit don’t repeat that...”
 
Biting my bottom lip, he laughed again, maybe I shouldn’t have had that spiced rum…
 
Lucas: “Fuck don’t… Sonova… Don’t copy me, okay?”
 
He continued to cover his mouth while giggling, I gave up in the end he was my son sooner or later he was gonna start dropping f bombs.
 
Caleb: “I won’t… I promise!”
 
Lucas: “Good… Anyway, there are a lot of people that probably don’t want to see your dad wrestle again.”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “Because I wasn’t nice to em.”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “Is that all you can say, why?”
 
Caleb: “No!”
 
Lucas: “Okay… Well it was because I wasn’t a good person if I’m honest…”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “…”
 
He’s fucking with me now…
 
I glared at him and he laughed again, he was smart, and I liked to think he knew he was fucking with me… I humoured him…
 
Lucas: “I was a very angry person back then, that’s not me anymore mate not since I had you and got you back. Maybe one day you’ll learn that yourself when you have kids.”
 
Caleb: “Ewww, I’m never having kids that’s disgusting!”
 
I just laughed and ruffled his hair and shook my head. He shuffled on the desk to look at my wall, a wall of various championships and photographs. My own personal hall of fame if you will because god knows I never was gonna get in on the SCW one at the way things were going…
 
I mean they inducted Tommy Valentine, why would they scrape the barrel further with me?  Shaking my head to myself, I was only partly joking. Tommy deserved the recognition if I’m honest he busted his ass throwing himself off shit after all.
 
I got up from the chair and put the toys down on the desk before lifting Caleb up and holding him so he could see the pictures and replica belts a lot closer as I approached the wall of fame as it were… Looking at it put a smile on my face you know? Seeing some of my crowning achievements and seeing my son taking an interest was always something I had wanted, it brought back memories of when I used to be enamoured with my father and his career as a kid.
 
If you ignore the fact, he fucked every woman he laid his eyes on beside my mother…
 
God bless the horny old cunt.
 
Lucas: “Like what you’re seeing?”
 
Caleb: “They’re shiny…”
 
Lucas: “They are, they aren’t the real ones unfortunately… SCW wouldn’t let me take em.”
 
Caleb: “Why not?”
 
Lucas: “Were still be used at the time, though see that one there?”
 
I pointed towards the replica Underground Championship. He nodded.
 
Lucas: “That belt is no longer active, they got rid of it.”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
I chuckled again, there was that question again…
 
Lucas: “Honestly, I don’t know… Always thought it was a fun division that company had. Hurt like hell admittedly when I was champ but give me one of my greatest rivals if I’m honest.”
 
Caleb: “What’s a rival?”
 
Lucas: “Someone you compete against a lot to see who is the better out of the two.”
 
Caleb: “Like Amber and me? We always compete to see who can do things first.”
 
Lucas: “Uh yeah I guess that kind of explains it… You know who my rival was?”
 
Caleb: “… Trinity?”
 
Lucas: “Oh god no… We both know she’d win all battles. It’s your uncle David, he and I never used to be mates.”
 
Caleb: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “I’ll tell you when you’re older… But this belt was one of the reasons. He always got the better of me most of the time baring the odd exception… You know when he retired, I was going to be his last ever match in a ring, but he went with his good friend Tommy instead.”
 
Caleb: “Tommy?”
 
Lucas: “Yeah…”
 
I moved along the wall a little to where the replica SCW Championship hung with a photo of me holding it in my hands crying while Thorn was laid out behind me…
 
 
Lucas: “Yeah, see I won this off him in a hard thought match. Didn’t think I had it in me to be honest with you more I think back, I probably shouldn’t have had the shot, but the company had people injured left n right, I made my chance and took it…”
 
Caleb reached out to touch the belt, I lifted it off the wall and handed it to him which he struggled to hold so assisted best I could.
 
Lucas: “Looks good on you mate, maybe one day you’ll follow in my steps eh?”
 
Caleb: “I will be the greatest champion in the world!”
 
He throws his arms up celebratory and the belt falls to the floor, he looked sad when it happened thinking I might shout at him, the old me might have but not this version of me, the better one.
 
Lucas: “Don’t worry about it mate, it’s only a replica…
 
I smiled to reassure him it was okay and stepped across the wall and pointed at something else.
 
Lucas: “Moving on, these are for when your Trinity and I won the Tag titles in SCW. Beat Shaun Cruze and your Auntie Kelcey… It was when Monarchy was formed, loved that name and loved teaming with Trinity as well.”
 
Caleb seemed to love when I talked about wrestling lately, I think it started when Trinity would talk to him about it all.
 
Caleb: “I want to see you wrestle.”
 
Lucas: “You want to see me wrestle? Well pick a Blu-ray and…”
 
He shook his head, that wasn’t what he meant…
 
Caleb: “Like that there…”
 
He pointed at a picture of me grappling someone from back in the day, I was younger then, but I got what he was asking and I never really thought about it…
 
Lucas: “You want to see me wrestle again in a ring? Since when?”
 
Caleb: “Now.”
 
Lucas: “Well I guess at least you’re honest…”
 
I laughed again before putting him back down and crouching to his height…
 
Lucas: “I don’t know if I got what it takes these days mate, a lot has changed.”
 
Caleb: “Like what?”
 
Lucas: “I’m older now, haven’t done it in a while… Take your pick?”
 
Caleb: “But… I want to see you wrestle?”
 
His tone made him sound a little sad now and his pouty face didn’t help matters… I sighed and winced a little that I was buying into what he was asking of me…
 
Lucas: “Even if I make a twat out of myself?”
 
Caleb: “ESPECIALLY!!! TWAT!!!”
 
Christ I really need to think before I say shit…He laughed again as did I, might as well dive into the fire all the way now it felt like.
 
Lucas: “Tell you what, let me think about it yeah? Not something I can just decide on.”
 
Caleb: “Oookay…”
 
I ruffled his hair a little more before standing up, he walked to the desk and took his toys and started to play a little more before the sound of a door shutting downstairs caught our attentions.
 
“Trinity: LUCAS, CALEB YOU HOME?”
 
Caleb’s eyes lit up like Christmas, even mine did as we looked to each other. He quickly run out of the office with his toys to go meet Trinity as I picked up the SCW Championship and held the replica in my hands… It didn’t carry with it the weight of original which sat on the shoulder of an Allocco…
 
I begun to hang it back on the wall before I heard the steps behind me, I turned to see Trinity standing there with Caleb beside here. She looks across at me with a smirk as I polish the plate of the belt.
 
Trinity: “Reminiscing, are you?”
 
Lucas: “Something like that, boy n I were just talking about stuff.”
 
Trinity: “Oh really, what were you talking about?”
 
I stood there watching as he grinned….
 
Caleb: “Dickheads and twats!”
 
He then runs off back downstairs as my eyes widened… That little shit... Trin looked at me wide eyed and laughed which made me do so as well, I shrugged my shoulders  innocently enough and like to think she knew me better than anyone and probably expected me to say shit like this, she wouldn’t be wrong.
 
Lucas: “I can explain…”
 
Trinity: “You don’t have to, I understand… It’s good you two are bonding...”
 
Lucas: “Yeah, I know but he said something I didn’t expect… He wants to see me wrestle…”
 
 
Trinity: “He does? Well that’s unexpected… How you feel about that love?”
 
Lucas: “I don’t know…”
 
I stood there with an unsure look on my face as I glanced back at the wall of my trophies… Trinity walks over and rests her head on my shoulder while sliding her arm around my back, she knew how I was feeling. She’s felt the same way, it wasn’t an easy thing to answer even if there was only one that made sense to people like us…
 
 
The GOLD Hall
Mid - August 20019
 
The smell of blood, sweat and tears was all too familiar to me. That coupled with alcohol and cigarettes was what made up the GOLD Hall of Santa Monica… It was run by a guy called Goldstein who was someone I had been friends with a good while now, long before I moved to Santa Monica and met the circle of people I’ve introduced into my life. He was a short fat guy whose age hadn’t killed him yet, though he looked like one of those troll dolls which was all the rage in the nineties…
 
He was polishing a glass clean while a wrestling ring was being tended to on the dance floor, it was a place which doubled as a club at night most the time with the odd wrestling event here n there for those who wanted to whet their whistle as it were. I walked over towards him and he didn’t even look up when he addressed me while some men and women drank away and talked amongst themselves.
 
Goldstein: “Show doesn’t start for a few hours, but you’re welcome to have a drink.”
 
I chuckled.
 
Lucas: “Good thing I’m not here for the show then mate.”
 
He did a double take for a moment and looked up to see me now leaning against the bar with a smirk on my face. Seeing the shocked look on his was worth it.
 
Goldstein: “Lucas? LUCAS?! What the hell! What you are doing ‘ere?”
 
He put the glass down and threw his arms up into the air with a smile a mile wide as he rushed around the bar to meet me properly. It had been a while since we had seen each other admittedly…
 
Lucas: “Thought I’d visit an old friend, you look good.”
 
He approached me and we shared a hug as he patted me on the back before pushing me away.
 
Goldstein: “Fuck off, I look like shit, feel like it too if I’m honest. Had my gall bladder out a few weeks ago only got back on my feet last week. Running this show to help pay the bills, fucking Republicans I tell you…”
 
I wanted to laugh but I showed a little concern and put my hand on his shoulder…
 
Lucas: “You alright for money mate? If you need a loaner just ask.”
 
Goldstein: “That’d be rich, this Jew owning Lucas Knight money. Nah I’ll be alright man, why you here?”
 
Lucas: “Just thought I’d see how things were, was in the neighbourhood looking at some of the old haunts.”
 
He looked at me with squinted eyes, a look of confusion on his face as he scratched his head.
 
Goldstein: “Why?”
 
Lucas: “Don’t you start, you sound like my kid.”
 
He laughed that cackle before making his way back to the bar and grabbing a couple of glasses and snagged a bottle of whiskey and pouring two glasses.
 
Lucas: “Nah I’m good mate, though I do come baring gifts.”
 
He looked at me surprised, not the first time I’ve turned down a drink and wouldn’t be the last, just consider it the subconscious decision I had already made about what my future held, I just didn’t realize it…
 
I held up a bottle of Infamously Dangerous Spiced Rum, one of the first batches David and I had got. It had a quaint union jack ribbon on it. I put it on the counter and showed him it. He put the whiskey back and snatched the bottle of the bar and lifted it up to the light after adjusting his glasses…
 
Goldstein: “Infamously Dangerous, Spiced Rum eh? You are making booze now?”
 
Lucas: “Something like that, mate n I put our faces on a brand we found. It’s good, consider that a free sample if you like, I can hook you up and I think your fans will love it. Especially when they know David Helms and Lucas Knight are promoting it, wrestling fans will lap this shit up.”
 
Goldstein: “HA, You and helms? You’re shitting me, thought you two hated each other?!”
 
Lucas: “Life finds a way I guess; he’s a good guy and I can’t hold a grudge forever unless you’re a complete cunt.”
 
Goldstein: “I hear ya, well thanks for the booze n all but that don’t explain why you’re ‘ere.”
 
Lucas: “Like I said, just visiting old haunts really mate, been doing a lot of thinking lately.”
 
Goldstein: “Bet that hurts.”
 
Lucas: “It does… It really does; I’m not used to it…
 
I chuckled again…
 
Lucas: “But a talk with my kid got me thinking and now with an announcement I’m finding it hard to not really consider it…”
 
Goldstein: “Sounds serious… What you are thinking about?”
 
Lucas: “Getting back into the ring… My old company SCW are hosting a tournament and my kid wants to see me wrestle…”
 
Goldstein: “And you come here for what… Guidance?”
 
Lucas: “From you, fuck no. This place is sentimental to me mate, you gave me my break over here in the states.”
 
Goldstein: “Well why don’t you stay a while, talk to some of the lads sure they’ll be happy to listen to a guy like you. Expecting a sell out tonight.”
 
Lucas: “So like 30 people?”
 
Goldstein: “Fuck you, you know we hold more like 200 here.”
 
Lucas: “Not knocking it, when you’ve wrestled in front of 100k people you miss places like this, simpler times…”
 
He didn’t’ know if I was being serious or joking, I was being serious nothing quite like wrestling in front of a smaller hotter crowd. SCW was blessed with some incredible fans of course, but even then, grew bored of the product at times, never seemed the case on the Indy scene.
 
Goldstein: “Whatever man, offer is there you’re welcome all the same.”
 
He looked around the place and could see more people turning up, some were beginning to recognize me now which put a smile on my face I’ll admit. There are times you wonder if people would remember who you are, showed whether you left a lasting impression on the business… Which for me wasn’t that hard…
 
Lucas: “Alright I’ll stay a bit.”
 
I even offered to help around the bar which he loved the idea of, as the minutes turned to hours the crowds begun to grow larger before the show started. I never recalled this place being so stacked with punters but here we were, I was helping around the bar, even taking selfies with a few people. It was a good night; the atmosphere though is what did it for me though if I’m honest. It’s what really convinced me…
 
The roar from this 200 strong crowed for no name showing off their talent for a few dollars, it put a smile on my face and re-lit that fire in my gut. It wasn’t about the destination, but the journey and it was one I wanted to take for the one person I loved more than my wife and step-daughter and that is my Son…
 
He wanted to see me wrestle live, what kind of father would I be if I denied him that…
 
A cunt…
 
And that isn’t who I am anymore… Probably.
 
 
 
 
God of Wrestling Tournament I
Vs. David Callahan.
 
Sitting in my office, at home with a camera pointed at me. It felt weird to be honest with you, it had been two years since I did this, 4 years since I set foot inside an SCW Ring and I was going to be doing both for a tournament which was going to be streamed on Twitch.TV and to cap it off, it’s a tournament that is sponsored by David and I’s bloody spiced rum. All of this was wild to me, it was one of those things that if you told the old me would be on the card’s I’d laugh out loud and slap you for be a twat.
 
But here we are, 2019 and I am sat here doing just that…
 
[Rec.]
 
Lucas: “Sup… You might remember me from such events as beating Fred Debonair for the SCW Underground Championship. Or maybe beating Thorn for the SCW Championship, or hell maybe it was when I become a triple crown winner with my wife and beat Perfect IMPACT for the Tag Team Championships…? The reason WHY I’m here sat in this chair is sat behind that camera with Trinity at her side, that is my son Caleb and stepdaughter Amber who are both smiling from ear to ear. Doing this for him feels right you know, it gives me a feeling in my gut which isn’t all nerves though I’ll admit I do have those, but it’s more a semblance of pride and excitement to actually wrestle a match and have them being able to watch.”
 
Lucas: “They don’t care if I win or lose, they want to just see me do what I spent the better part of my life doing as a career… While some people sit behind a desk, others sell coffee or work in their dead-end job. I was getting paid to kick people in the nuts, slap em in the face and drive their heads into the canvas on a weekly, biweekly or on some occasions a monthly basis given the company I was working for. The only question I’ve been asking myself right now was whether I have what it takes… Trinity believes in me; Amber believes in me and Caleb my son believes in me… So, I guess all what’s left is to see if I believe in myself…
 
That was a lot harder than I made it look, I wanted to drop many an F bomb like usual, but god knows I couldn’t…
 
Lucas: “So here we are, I imagine the first words out of your mouths were what year is this?! Lucas Knight entering a tournament. I’m sure somewhere Robin Williams is looking down and laughing at the idea of that meme being used now. But I know the feeling all too well ladies and gents. I’m sat here wondering just what the hell am I thinking looking to step back into the ring in what is an eternity in dog years. I took part in the God of Wrestling tournament before, the same one my ex-wife Christy Matthews won which’ll get a few groans given what she is up to these days and I digress, at the time she was a different person but so was I.”
 
I shrugged.
 
Lucas: “That was then, and this is now, things change, people change and honestly I’ve changed since then, I’ve changed since a few years ago if I’m honest. A lot has happened, a lot of bad recently with the death of Ricky Octavius who is a kid I didn’t know personally, but one I knew about and know people who knew him. He was taken way too soon for my liking and it puts a lot into perspective for a guy like me, I’m a father after all and I sit here looking at my son and I can’t help but wonder how I would feel if I were to lose him like that… I mean I’ve been there, done that with losing custody the way I had back then which you know about. But like that, I can’t even begin to… anyway I’m going off track here…”
 
I shook my head and started to regain my focus, I had a match to promote, a tournament to talk about and an opponent to talk to in less than five hundred words…
 
Lucas: “When I first agreed to come out of retirement for this, I wanted to do it for my boy over there. That is the truth but the more I look at the landscape of this thing and the people in it, the possibilities begin to take shape and the idea of facing David Helms in a match, well it’s money innit? I’m not just talking about a few lump sums of cash, real money it’s big fight night. It’s something Sasha and SCW must be salivating about really with dollar signs in their eyes. The only disappointing thing about this is it won’t happen in the final should that even happen. Could you imagine what people would say if that were the case, the fix is in or something like that.”
 
Lucas: “When Helms n I agreed to create this brand of rum, it was just to make some quick cash. But seeing the name of it labelled as the sponsor of this tournament, well it adds a certain levity to things for me. The sum of so many parts as it were, from myself to my family watching, to this sponsorship I have a lot on my shoulders right now, a lot of people to please. All but my opponent though. This guy… What can be said about him other than he looks like the kind of guy to pleasure himself by rodgering me in the ass before setting me on fire. If that were the case, I guess I’ve had worse first dates.”
 
I laughed and shrugged, he looked like a crackhead so wouldn’t put it past him.
 
Lucas: “I get it mate; I wouldn’t hold it against you if that were the case, I’m not that popular. I’ve been where you are sorta, I’ve seen that look in your eyes countless times before when I have looked at myself in the mirror, seems like you need a hug. I’d like to tell you things are going to get better, and they will but It won’t be when you and I stand in that ring. You might be a few petals short of a full flower mate but I’m not going to stand idly by and allow you to have your way with me either. That isn’t how this is going to work, there is too much on the line for me to let someone like you rain on my parade. Which right now that is exactly what this is sunshine. MY Parade because it’s my first match back in SCW for little over four years so count yourself blessed to stand in the ring with me.”
 
Lucas: “Or don’t it doesn’t matter because I’m not here for your amusement, I’m not here for the fans, I’m here for my son and daughter and to see if I still have what it takes. Despite everything about you that probably will grind my gears, you’re in this thing either because you hate yourself or because you have this deep seeded desire to try and win it. You want to give the middle finger to the establishment, right? Beating me on my return would certainly help you mate. But I’m prone to give middle fingers too and I’m here to tell you it isn’t happening… Well I hope not anyway, got a lot more to give this tournament other than my spiced rum which I’ll be sure to give you a bottle once I beat you and move on in this thing because I got a Scotsman I wanna face in the next round.”
 
I wink.
 
Fin.