01-16-2021, 11:14 AM
01-23-2021, 08:48 PM
OK, so hopefully this explains everything, at least up to the show
Enjoy, hope it comes across in the way intended
Owen #84
Enjoy, hope it comes across in the way intended
Owen #84
01-24-2021, 12:35 AM
Whenever Aaron has a problem that affects him to the point of throwing him off immensely, one of his easiest go-to tactics is to find something else to focus on as a distraction.
That was one of the biggest reasons why he further embraced his imagination as he grew up and the problems around him slowly became too much for him to be able to cope with at times. Whether it was stress caused by something that happened at school, the mounting tensions with his parents over who was financially carrying the family on their back, or simply feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and needing a bit of time detached from reality, he could always find solace in his creative endeavors to help get him through the darkness. It wasn't always a smooth ride, especially once his imagination gave a form to all of those negative emotions and thus Nemesis was born, but the vast majority of the time his ever-expanding imaginary world was always the perfect escape.
It wasn't until he started wrestling that he would find there were far more options than he first thought when he was in desperate need of a distraction.
Given some of what the public has come to know, many have often questioned how on earth Aaron is able to walk into most of his matches seemingly unfazed by the drama that tends to surround his life, especially in moments where he's competing immediately following the loss of a family member or injured because someone had attempted to take his life just days prior. The simple answer is the same one he's given as to how he's been able to fight his way through life no matter what kind of avalanche of personal issues attempts to bury him alive: he found a great distraction. Being in the ring, regardless of whether he was expressing himself creatively or not, was almost like flipping into an entirely different gear for him. Once that bell rang, everything outside of that ring ceased to exist and his undivided focus was on the task at hand, trying to decipher his opponent's moves and gameplans and respond accordingly. All the other problems would still be waiting for him once he headed backstage when all was set and done, but it always felt easier to tackle them with a clearer mind after spending minutes going back and forth with someone in front of thousands of people in attendance and millions more watching around the world.
Wrestling was perfect in those rare moments where not even drawing or writing or anything more creative seemed to do the trick, and more and more often lately the creative soul was struggling to connect with the part of himself he cherished the most even just to give his mind something else to worry about for a few minutes. Something about the situation that had befallen both Alec and Liza was still eating away at him, and while he'd since learned that they had both been getting better and police were trying to hunt down the mysterious new drug that seemed to be the common denominator and those who sought to deal it, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far worse.
Still having no luck in contacting his therapist to discuss the matter wasn't helping either.
So when wrestling was starting to become less of a distraction to fill the void and more of a mountain of problems all its own, Aaron found himself truly struggling for perhaps the first time in a very long time.
Last Breakdown certainly could have gone smoother, considering the selfish and petty actions of JaMarcus Avery had effectively guaranteed Aaron and Owen's elimination from the Tag League and left the creative soul tempted to ask Sasha for a one-on-one match down the line to literally knock some sense into the jealous big man. Losing their match to A/C Unit had certainly stung as well, especially as unresolved tensions between Aaron and Asher over the latter's comments to the former from Last Laugh seemed to boil over at points as Asher's desperation to force a tie with Bree and Sienna met the brick wall that was Aaron's resolve no matter the situation. That said, at least he could find peace in the fact that the Perfect Pack hadn't gone down without a fight, and at least in defeat Bree and Sienna weren't getting a free ride to the finals.
And then the parking lot incident had happened.
Even now, hours later, Aaron was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that it had actually happened. He and Owen had been getting cleaned up after their match when they got the news, and they and Payton had wasted no time in getting out to the parking lot, though not before the damage had been done. Thankfully both Kelcey and Sienna were still alive, though their injuries were going to resonate with everyone involved in this little war that had been brewing for some time to come. Sitting in the hospital and talking with Kelcey once she'd recovered enough hadn't seemed to lift the crushing burden off of any of them, and Blake pulling them into a discussion where he was attempting to call shots on Kelcey's behalf just because ‘he could do what they couldn't’ only ignited the wrong kind of fire in everyone.
As much as he tried to argue, however, Aaron ended up letting Blake go on the matter. For as much logic as there was in knowing there were some cases where fighting fire with fire was exactly what the other side wanted, Blake was already too far lost in his thirst for vengeance to be reasoned with. That said, Blake's declaration that the Perfect Pack was done was going to fall on deaf ears because those who were actually a part of the group weren't just going to throw all of this away that easily. They all knew what they were signing up for, after all, and to give up now meant admitting they couldn't handle the wrestling business at its worst.
He couldn't speak on behalf of Owen or Payton, but Aaron had never admitted defeat in the face of anything that overwhelmed him before, and he sure as hell didn't plan on starting now.
With the night growing late and knowing the hospital would eventually try to kick them out once visiting hours were over, Aaron had offered to let the two of them crash at his place since Seattle was only a little over a half-hour away from Tacoma, but they had politely refused on the grounds of not wanting to intrude and being adamant about staying by Kelcey's side for as long as they could. There was no ill will when he departed; while they didn't know the specifics they were aware Aaron had a few things outside the ring he'd been dealing with and it was clear to both Owen and Payton that the events of tonight were rattling him far more than he was trying to let on. Considering the distance, it was easy to believe when Aaron promised he'd be back in the morning to check in with everyone and figure out their real next move, not the one Blake was trying to dictate for them.
As he made the solo drive back to his apartment, Aaron had at least attempted to try and immerse himself in music to keep his head clear, though it's hard to make that work when some of the songs that flip through only remind you of the issues at hand or are simply mood-killers in general. Inevitably, his train of thought began to go off the rails and he found himself struggling to focus on the drive when all he could think about was the mounting belief that there was more to his personal situation than anyone besides him was willing to believe and his professional situation was getting more and more out of hand with each passing week. It also wasn't lost on him that he and Owen still had one more Tag League match to complete, though in the face of what had happened just a few hours ago, knowing that the match with the Golden Boys was for nothing but pride and would have no impact on the standings almost made it feel insulting that the match still needed to happen when the trio seemed to agree that staying by Kelcey's side as she recovered would have been the more pressing matter to concern themselves with.
“I understand they would prefer to have the tournament conclude properly, but it just doesn't feel right.”
It was a bitter pill to swallow for sure, but at this point, Aaron didn't have the energy to even vent to himself about it anymore. Between the hard-fought war and seeing what happened to Kelcey and Sienna, it was safe to say tonight was one of the most physically and mentally draining nights he'd ever endured. The idea of returning home and losing himself in some project for even a tiny bit was extremely tempting, but in his current state it was more likely he was just going to fall fast asleep as he was running on fumes at this point and his body was only continuing on because letting his eyes droop now would only lead to a bigger catastrophe.
As he finally pulled into the apartment's parking lot, one last thought crossed his mind that sent a chill down his spine, and that was the near-guarantee at this point that if he went to bed in his current state of mind, some sort of nightmare was sure to follow. And yet, his body refused to accept any result other than sleep, so that left him hoping he could deal with whatever came tonight and he could maybe bring his sketchpad with him tomorrow when he returned to the hospital to check in on Kelcey.
“Hey Aaron, hold on a second!”
Aaron had entered the building and started ascending the stairs to his floor when the sudden call startled him, though thankfully he had enough presence of mind to at least keep a tight hold of the railing considering his fatigued state to avoid any unnecessary calamities. He turned and simply blinked in confusion through his tired haze as Oliver, the apartment manager, had emerged from his office. Aaron hadn’t interacted with the man too much in all the time he’d been living in this building, mostly because he wasn’t a problem tenant and always found a way to make his rent payments on time even when he was on the road, but he was one of those older guys that were stern and nasty if you got on his bad side but tolerable and willing to look out for those who lived here otherwise. Only their initial interaction when Aaron had first moved in years ago hadn’t been too pleasant, mostly because Oliver simply didn’t understand Aaron as ‘one of those artistic types’ and typically not even being around because of his wrestling schedule didn’t make him the most immediate choice for a tenant, but the man had backed off when Aaron proved time and time again that he caused no trouble for anyone else and mostly kept to himself when he was around, aka the kind of tenant Oliver loves the most because they cause him the least amount of headaches.
“I’m sorry Oliver, I’m really exhausted. It’s been… it’s been a night, to put it mildly. Can whatever you need please wait until morning?”
“No can do, Aaron. I’ve got something for you, and I was given explicit instructions to make sure you got it as soon as you came back through. I’m not happy with the fact that I had to stay up myself to do this, but I’m not going to argue when you, quite frankly, look like you’ve been through hell.”
“That’s putting it mildly…” Aaron couldn’t help but mutter as Oliver held out a large manila envelope with his name on it in thick black marker. It looked like it contained something of decent size, though not large enough to really warrant how large the envelope was. Aaron took it nonetheless as his brain attempted to kick itself back online to try and ponder what was inside.
To his relief, he didn’t get very far in that endeavor before Oliver had something else to say, his voice less agitated now with essentially staying up just to catch him and more concerned.
“You weren’t expecting something, were you? Because I find it odd that I’d be getting a delivery for a tenant this late into the night, and especially something that didn’t need a signature.”
“I haven’t ordered anything lately. Been too preoccupied with some other things to worry about doing any online shopping.”
“Then, in that case, I want you to be careful with whatever the hell that thing is. I’ll be upfront with you Aaron… the guy that delivered it? Real shady looking character. If he didn’t sound like he was at least halfway put together, I’d have assumed from the way he looked that I was talking with one of those homeless guys looking to try and bum a place off of me for the night. The only reason I even took that off his hands and heard him out was because he presented all this paperwork that at least made it seem like whatever’s in there is meant to help you or something. Still, I’d trust that thing about as far as I can throw it out your apartment’s window if you want me to be honest.”
“Did he give you a name or anything?”
Oliver just shook his head, eliciting a sigh from Aaron as he glanced back down at the envelope. Curiosity was beginning to consume him, and the only thing he felt grateful for in this situation right now was that this had seemingly ignited enough of a battle between his body and mind that he might be able to stay up for a bit and clear his head after all in hopes of dodging the nightmare bullet tonight.
“Thanks, Oliver. If it turns out to be anything truly bad, I’ll let you know ASAP. Right now, my body really just wants to crash after everything that’s happened over the past few hours, and I feel bad enough that you’ve stayed up later than you usually do just for this.”
“Hey, you know I at least give a damn about the people who live in my building. Unlike some people who only do this for the money, I want to at least keep this place clean, if you know what I mean.”
“I know I’m thankful for that. Have a good night Oliver.”
The older man nodded before disappearing back into his office/apartment as Aaron resumed his trek up the stairs. For as sluggish and battered as his body felt, his eyes seemed to show more life than they had at any point since the parking lot incident as he carefully scanned the package, trying to find any sign of who it could’ve been from or what it could possibly be. The description of the person who delivered it was both unfamiliar and left a lot to be desired, but it wouldn’t be the first time Aaron’s gotten some sort of strange gift out of the blue, usually from a fan of his work either in the ring or through his art and design endeavors trying to grab his attention for whatever reason.
Once he finally reached his floor and unlocked the door to his apartment, he flicked the lights on and relocked the door before tossing the package onto the kitchen counter, resolving to try and fix himself up first. With any luck, some ibuprofen would dull the physical pain still coursing through his limbs and caffeine would snap him out of his daze for a little bit so he could sort himself out because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the LAST thing he needed after a night like tonight was to be denied sleep because his mind had become so unstable that his dreams would be haunted by something. He had enough problems weighing heavily on his mind, and he was no good in figuring out what the hell the Perfect Pack truly does next if he was physically exhausted and mentally mangled.
“Alright, let’s see what the hell this thing is.”
After he’d taken the pills and brewed himself some coffee to snap himself awake a little more, he grabbed one of his kitchen knives and carefully cut open the package, careful not to damage whatever was inside but also keeping some distance just in case someone was trying to spring a trap on him. After the mess with Dylan years ago and especially as of late following the fan that tried to attack Owen at a fan event, it was hard to blame him for taking any chances. Thankfully, all that seemed to be inside the envelope once it was sliced open was its contents.
A rather big prescription bottle filled with very familiar-looking pills.
The moment he caught sight of the capsules that had already caused a significant amount of strife to his loved ones, Aaron’s immediate reaction was to slap the bottle away, though that only caused it to smack off the front of the microwave and roll right back over to where he stood against the counter. Cursing under his breath at this turn of events, he grabbed the bottle and went to go deposit it in the trash before he caught sight of the label, which had been plastered over whatever prescription this bottle was originally used for and had a message in black marker waiting for him.
CONSIDER THIS A GIFT FROM A FRIEND FOR WHEN A CREATIVE MIND LIKE YOURS NEEDS THAT LITTLE EXTRA SPARK TO BRING YOUR IDEAS TO LIFE
Aaron couldn’t help but scoff at the message and wanted to resume his brief trip toward the trash can, but something in the back of his head was stopping him. He couldn’t make it out at first, which worried him with how much it really didn’t want to let go of this godforsaken drug that was now in his possession, but after standing there thinking it over for a few minutes he finally managed to decipher two conflicting feelings towards this situation.
Part of him found itself curious about what these pills were truly capable of, considering both Alec and Liza had expressed reaching ‘his level’ of imagination while under their influence.
Another part of him realized that he was essentially holding evidence to feed the paranoia he’d been trying to suppress that there was a deeper connection to this mess that made it clear he was in the center of its crosshairs and anyone close to him was too close to potentially avoid getting hurt.
Of those two conflicting thoughts, naturally, the mere existence of the first one was terrifying. He never had and never would do drugs in any sort of fashion, and in this case, he even had a valid reason that had nothing to do with being ‘the stereotypical good boy’ or failing one of SCW’s drug tests or anything like that. These pills had already at least proven addictive enough to easily hospitalize his sister-in-law and youngest brother and do significant damage in the time they’d been in their systems. He’d never needed help in being creative before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn to drugs to try and empower his imagination now. His tired mind was being tempted, and he refused to take the bait.
The other, though, was equal parts confusing and worrisome all on its own. The mere fact that he was now holding the very thing that had found its way into his life in some respect on two separate and seemingly unrelated occasions over the past month all but assured him that there was no coincidence here. Even if this was just the latest drug craze that was making dealers bank out on the streets, there was someone who was deliberately trying to make sure he was both aware of it and tempted to throw it all away because of it. Considering it was hard to argue that he hadn’t felt this low in a very long time after everything that had happened on Breakdown, he was dealing with someone who sure as hell knew what they were doing.
Aaron finally seemed to snap out of it, taking a deep breath and setting the bottle down somewhere where he’d remember it but also ensured it’d be out of sight and out of mind while he was going about his usual daily business so as not to be tempted. He knew that whenever he was able to finally get a hold of Dr. Marsh-Asher, he had to add this to the list of things they’d need to discuss. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t just a string of convenient coincidences that just barely linked together anymore, and if he could get someone like James to validate his beliefs, then that gave him someone in his corner in trying to get to the bottom of this mess once and for all before it did any further harm to anyone else.
He shook his head and grabbed the envelope, deciding to pitch it and go lay in bed trying to sketch something to clear his head before sleep claimed him. Before he could drop it in the trash, his eyes caught something written in pencil near the bottom left corner of the envelope, light enough to easily miss but dark enough that you could read it once you found it. Aaron could only raise an eyebrow, however, because it was nothing more than a random series of letters-
A figure, familiar but having their face blurred, sitting in a doctor’s office where it feels like they do not belong.
A giant storm rolling through a once beautiful landscape, leaving nothing but decay in its wake.
A figure that looks like him is seen from the back as several faceless figures, dressed like the members of his immediate family and soon-to-be in-laws, all turning their backs on him.
A figure that feels like him but resembles almost a decaying corpse laying in a hospital bed, barely clinging to life.
With a gasp, Aaron suddenly jerked back, letting the envelope drop to the floor. He could feel himself stumble, blinking his eyes rapidly as though he were snapping out of a trance. He felt like he was more tired than he thought and his head was pounding, but he steadied himself against the counter and tried to forcibly slam his train of thought back on track. He was trying to actually gather his thoughts and make sense of whatever just flashed through his mind, but the more he tried to recall them, the more it felt like he was slamming into a mental brick wall. Silently praying it was just a weird effect of being as out of it as he was, he carefully grabbed the envelope – making sure not to glance at the jumbled letters that seemed to trigger the bizarre vision – and set it aside to also figure out later as he forced himself towards his bedroom and finally collapsed on his bed, only one thought prevailing above all else right now that made him feel as though he’d swallowed a block of lead.
What the hell was that?
That conclusion has absolutely nothing to do with A/C Unit, let me make that clear. The fact of the matter is, Owen and I walked into that match knowing full well by that point that because somebody might have been a little jealous that we spoiled his SCW debut some time back and thought he had the perfect payback at his fingertips, we were effectively eliminated and Bree and Sienna were moving on no matter what. Now, the easy solution to that whole situation would’ve been for the two of us to just lie down and give Cid and Asher a free win in return so their free ride wasn’t going exactly where they thought it would. And yet, that’s not what we did. It’s not because we owe those two anything or simply accepted that they’re better than us because I’d hardly call a disqualification win all that ways back as having truly proven anything… we marched out to that ring and gave Cid and Asher the hardest fight they’ve ever faced to date in the Tag League because that’s just what we do, and that’s the way it should be. Our place in the picture be damned, if A/C Unit wanted to have a semi-final then we were going to make them earn it, and I’d like to think we did just that. Yeah, we may have lost, but if I can say one thing to Asher real quick?
If you think we’re just going to take that loss and that’s the end of that, then you learned nothing from that night. The fact that you were willing to do whatever it took to win was met with me willing to do whatever it took to deny it to you, and if I haven’t earned your respect by now Asher, then I hope you and Cid do what you deserve to do and that’s go all the way and become Tag Team Champions because I can promise you that Owen and I will fight through hell if that’s what it takes to meet you in the ring once again, this time with that gold at stake.
We all know that losing sucks, regardless of the circumstances, but let’s address the bigger issue from that night: the fact that Sienna has become so unhinged that she’s willing to make herself into a carbon copy of Kelcey, the very thing I’m almost positive she swore she was trying to avoid being in the first place once upon a time, in a desperate bid to not only try and get Chris back when I fully respect the man for walking away from what he knew was a problem he shouldn’t have to be bound to, but also continue trying to upend Kelcey’s life for reasons that will only ever make sense to her. If you can watch the nightmare that unfolded in the parking lot on that night, look me dead in the eyes, and tell me that Kelcey was in the wrong for trying to defend herself from effectively being ABDUCTED, then you clearly have no soul. Add to it the fact that we’re not even addressing how someone who is supposed to be the family of her best friend was coerced into helping set this all up in the first place and her legitimate concerns over the role she unwillingly played are swept under the rug because everybody from that group is too ‘perfect’ to even be considered functionally human anymore, lest it taint their precious image that’s already unraveling more and more with each passing week.
…I’ll be honest, and it pains me to say this… but if I had a say in the matter, I’d have been fine being left off the pay-per-view card and staying by Kelcey’s side as she recovers.
But the fact of the matter is, Owen and I still have a job to do, and even if it doesn’t seem like it’s worth anything on paper, the Tag League still has one last match that needs to be taken care of before it can proceed to its next stage.
And if we made anything clear on that last Breakdown, it’s that we will never turn in anything less than our absolute best, regardless of what stakes there may or may not be.
Yeah, we found ourselves working from behind the proverbial eight ball right out of the gate, and that first loss was always weighing on our minds every time we walked out there to continue our tournament run. But at no point did that ever stop us from busting our asses and fighting to earn the win, even if it seems like it’s all for naught now that we’ve arrived at the end, and that’s because of exactly what I said to Asher and Cid: even if we aren’t moving on to the finals, the two of us have proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, exactly what we’re capable of as a tag team, and the fact that even among those two losses we were only ever truly beaten clean ONCE should speak volumes once this tournament is in the books and the fight to reach the top of the mountain and challenge for those crowns begins anew. I’d like to think there’s an argument to be made that Owen Cruze and Aaron Blackbourne might have earned themselves a shot like that, and even if we haven’t, we’re always willing to fight to make sure that’s an argument that can be ignored no longer.
Like it or not, the Perfect Pack isn’t dead quite yet, and a challenge like the Golden Boys isn’t going to change that.
If I’m going to keep being honest, the fact that you can call the Golden Boys one of the ‘true’ tag teams that should have, by all accounts, held a distinct advantage coming into the Tag League is actually kind of misleading. Yes, by all accounts they were a team coming in and they’ve challenged for the Tag Titles once before, but when you actually watch them compete you come to understand exactly why I’m iffy about referring to them as such. You have Bison Jones, a man who got the bare minimum of training in the one and only thing his trainer thought he’d excel at under such a rush job, doing all the work, and then you have Adam Allocco, a long-time veteran of the ring wars and definitely on the list of the greatest pure in-ring technicians of all time, doing nothing but watching his pupil effectively carry him to victory while he tries to reap all the rewards.
Does that sound like a tag team to you?
Bison, I’ve seen the way you operate in the ring, and your strength is no joke. The problem is the fact that it’s all you have going for you, and your own partner is to blame for that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you don’t seem too happy with having to stick with Adam when you guys aren’t in the ring, and I’m sure you’re chomping at the bit to be able to prove what you’re capable of on your own terms and not having to effectively carry someone to glory he’s done nothing to earn. If you had the opportunity to break away from Adam, maybe add a few more tools to your arsenal to become more well-rounded and therefore far more dangerous, then I have no reason to doubt that you could be a true one-man army here in SCW.
As it stands now, however, you’re effectively no better than a hired gun whose sole purpose is to be the muscle that gets Adam the one thing that’s always eluded him through no one’s fault but his own. If you’re fine with that for whatever reason, then that’s on you. But you shouldn’t be fine with that, and it’s sure as hell going to take more than one mountain of a man to stop the two of us from finishing the Tag League strong.
I get it, you’re big and bad, it’s literally in your name when it’s announced every time you compete, but Owen and I have faced ‘big and bad’ before. You remember the aforementioned guy who kind of screwed us over in this thing because he’s being petty, JaMarcus Avery? He’s every bit as big and bad as you are, and he proved it the night he debuted for SCW alongside Jake Starr, a man who’s notorious for giving your mentor and partner trouble over the years. And yet, despite what he brought to the table alongside the experience and talent of Jake, we still earned a victory on that night. This match is the exact same scenario, except I’d dare to wager that Adam’s not as eager to bother trying to prove anything and content with letting you do all the dirty work. After all, this match effectively means nothing in the final standings, so why should you guys even bother, right?
It’s that kind of mindset that I’ve always hated when it came to you, Adam. I won’t deny that once upon a time, you were a name to be reckoned with in SCW, and you’ve more than earned every accolade you once held. But in recent years you’ve become no better than a leech, trying to find whoever is willing to hear you out so you can ‘guide’ them to the top while taking all the credit through the barest minimum of what can be considered effort. You tried to do that with your own son, you tried to do that with Gavin Taylor at one point, and you’re doing it now with Bison. It almost seems to me like you’re no different than so many names, many of whom I’ve had to put up with directly for far too long, that desperately cling to the days where people once respected you and took you seriously and instead of simply letting go and accepting that maybe, just maybe, your time has passed, you dig for anything you can get your hands on to use and abuse so long as people today are still talking about Adam Allocco, even if the reason they’re talking has nothing to do with respect.
Why be loved for who you used to be so long as you can live in infamy, right?
You know what wouldn’t surprise me? I wouldn’t put it past you, Adam, to try and address Owen and me in a way that makes it seem like Alistaire never meant anything to us where he was everything to you. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble even mentioning the one match in Fatal Fortunes where my victory denied Alistaire a chance to challenge for the World Title… a victory that I already told him, to his face, was one I regret because I know how much it meant to him but one I wouldn’t take back because he would have wanted me to give him nothing less than my very best had he won on that night. The biggest difference between father and son is the fact that Alistaire always has and always will work harder than just about everybody else to rightfully earn his place and prove he belongs at the top of the mountain, and that is why I both respect him and call him my friend, why he is still just as much a part of the Perfect Pack even now.
All you’ve ever done is make claims you don’t want to try backing up and trying to coast on his name and accomplishments, Bison, and whoever else makes this a walk in the park for you to finally say you’ve been SCW Tag Team Champion at least once before you retired for good, and that’s exactly why I plan on giving you a little reality check in Alistaire’s honor on Sunday night.
Many people will look at this match, the last of the Tag League before the semi-finals start, as just another match on a stacked pay-per-view card. Adam and Bison might even consider phoning it in because there’s nothing to gain here. But Owen and I promise you all that we’re giving you exactly what you deserve because this business deserves no less than our absolute best regardless of the circumstances. Yeah, maybe we’ve got other problems waiting in the wings to focus on, and yeah, maybe there isn’t much to this match in the grand scheme of things, but we’ll just have to make it mean something for the long run, now won’t we?
For those who think they’ve seen the Perfect Pack at our lowest point, I invite you to tune in to Last Grasp of Reality, because we’re going to make a statement, loud and clear, that we are far from finished, and things like the events of the last Breakdown are nothing more than fuel to the fire of exactly why we do this, why we keep pushing forward and fighting our fight, and why, when all is set and done, nobody in this company will ever forget out names.
That was one of the biggest reasons why he further embraced his imagination as he grew up and the problems around him slowly became too much for him to be able to cope with at times. Whether it was stress caused by something that happened at school, the mounting tensions with his parents over who was financially carrying the family on their back, or simply feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and needing a bit of time detached from reality, he could always find solace in his creative endeavors to help get him through the darkness. It wasn't always a smooth ride, especially once his imagination gave a form to all of those negative emotions and thus Nemesis was born, but the vast majority of the time his ever-expanding imaginary world was always the perfect escape.
It wasn't until he started wrestling that he would find there were far more options than he first thought when he was in desperate need of a distraction.
Given some of what the public has come to know, many have often questioned how on earth Aaron is able to walk into most of his matches seemingly unfazed by the drama that tends to surround his life, especially in moments where he's competing immediately following the loss of a family member or injured because someone had attempted to take his life just days prior. The simple answer is the same one he's given as to how he's been able to fight his way through life no matter what kind of avalanche of personal issues attempts to bury him alive: he found a great distraction. Being in the ring, regardless of whether he was expressing himself creatively or not, was almost like flipping into an entirely different gear for him. Once that bell rang, everything outside of that ring ceased to exist and his undivided focus was on the task at hand, trying to decipher his opponent's moves and gameplans and respond accordingly. All the other problems would still be waiting for him once he headed backstage when all was set and done, but it always felt easier to tackle them with a clearer mind after spending minutes going back and forth with someone in front of thousands of people in attendance and millions more watching around the world.
Wrestling was perfect in those rare moments where not even drawing or writing or anything more creative seemed to do the trick, and more and more often lately the creative soul was struggling to connect with the part of himself he cherished the most even just to give his mind something else to worry about for a few minutes. Something about the situation that had befallen both Alec and Liza was still eating away at him, and while he'd since learned that they had both been getting better and police were trying to hunt down the mysterious new drug that seemed to be the common denominator and those who sought to deal it, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far worse.
Still having no luck in contacting his therapist to discuss the matter wasn't helping either.
So when wrestling was starting to become less of a distraction to fill the void and more of a mountain of problems all its own, Aaron found himself truly struggling for perhaps the first time in a very long time.
Last Breakdown certainly could have gone smoother, considering the selfish and petty actions of JaMarcus Avery had effectively guaranteed Aaron and Owen's elimination from the Tag League and left the creative soul tempted to ask Sasha for a one-on-one match down the line to literally knock some sense into the jealous big man. Losing their match to A/C Unit had certainly stung as well, especially as unresolved tensions between Aaron and Asher over the latter's comments to the former from Last Laugh seemed to boil over at points as Asher's desperation to force a tie with Bree and Sienna met the brick wall that was Aaron's resolve no matter the situation. That said, at least he could find peace in the fact that the Perfect Pack hadn't gone down without a fight, and at least in defeat Bree and Sienna weren't getting a free ride to the finals.
And then the parking lot incident had happened.
Even now, hours later, Aaron was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that it had actually happened. He and Owen had been getting cleaned up after their match when they got the news, and they and Payton had wasted no time in getting out to the parking lot, though not before the damage had been done. Thankfully both Kelcey and Sienna were still alive, though their injuries were going to resonate with everyone involved in this little war that had been brewing for some time to come. Sitting in the hospital and talking with Kelcey once she'd recovered enough hadn't seemed to lift the crushing burden off of any of them, and Blake pulling them into a discussion where he was attempting to call shots on Kelcey's behalf just because ‘he could do what they couldn't’ only ignited the wrong kind of fire in everyone.
As much as he tried to argue, however, Aaron ended up letting Blake go on the matter. For as much logic as there was in knowing there were some cases where fighting fire with fire was exactly what the other side wanted, Blake was already too far lost in his thirst for vengeance to be reasoned with. That said, Blake's declaration that the Perfect Pack was done was going to fall on deaf ears because those who were actually a part of the group weren't just going to throw all of this away that easily. They all knew what they were signing up for, after all, and to give up now meant admitting they couldn't handle the wrestling business at its worst.
He couldn't speak on behalf of Owen or Payton, but Aaron had never admitted defeat in the face of anything that overwhelmed him before, and he sure as hell didn't plan on starting now.
With the night growing late and knowing the hospital would eventually try to kick them out once visiting hours were over, Aaron had offered to let the two of them crash at his place since Seattle was only a little over a half-hour away from Tacoma, but they had politely refused on the grounds of not wanting to intrude and being adamant about staying by Kelcey's side for as long as they could. There was no ill will when he departed; while they didn't know the specifics they were aware Aaron had a few things outside the ring he'd been dealing with and it was clear to both Owen and Payton that the events of tonight were rattling him far more than he was trying to let on. Considering the distance, it was easy to believe when Aaron promised he'd be back in the morning to check in with everyone and figure out their real next move, not the one Blake was trying to dictate for them.
As he made the solo drive back to his apartment, Aaron had at least attempted to try and immerse himself in music to keep his head clear, though it's hard to make that work when some of the songs that flip through only remind you of the issues at hand or are simply mood-killers in general. Inevitably, his train of thought began to go off the rails and he found himself struggling to focus on the drive when all he could think about was the mounting belief that there was more to his personal situation than anyone besides him was willing to believe and his professional situation was getting more and more out of hand with each passing week. It also wasn't lost on him that he and Owen still had one more Tag League match to complete, though in the face of what had happened just a few hours ago, knowing that the match with the Golden Boys was for nothing but pride and would have no impact on the standings almost made it feel insulting that the match still needed to happen when the trio seemed to agree that staying by Kelcey's side as she recovered would have been the more pressing matter to concern themselves with.
“I understand they would prefer to have the tournament conclude properly, but it just doesn't feel right.”
It was a bitter pill to swallow for sure, but at this point, Aaron didn't have the energy to even vent to himself about it anymore. Between the hard-fought war and seeing what happened to Kelcey and Sienna, it was safe to say tonight was one of the most physically and mentally draining nights he'd ever endured. The idea of returning home and losing himself in some project for even a tiny bit was extremely tempting, but in his current state it was more likely he was just going to fall fast asleep as he was running on fumes at this point and his body was only continuing on because letting his eyes droop now would only lead to a bigger catastrophe.
As he finally pulled into the apartment's parking lot, one last thought crossed his mind that sent a chill down his spine, and that was the near-guarantee at this point that if he went to bed in his current state of mind, some sort of nightmare was sure to follow. And yet, his body refused to accept any result other than sleep, so that left him hoping he could deal with whatever came tonight and he could maybe bring his sketchpad with him tomorrow when he returned to the hospital to check in on Kelcey.
“Hey Aaron, hold on a second!”
Aaron had entered the building and started ascending the stairs to his floor when the sudden call startled him, though thankfully he had enough presence of mind to at least keep a tight hold of the railing considering his fatigued state to avoid any unnecessary calamities. He turned and simply blinked in confusion through his tired haze as Oliver, the apartment manager, had emerged from his office. Aaron hadn’t interacted with the man too much in all the time he’d been living in this building, mostly because he wasn’t a problem tenant and always found a way to make his rent payments on time even when he was on the road, but he was one of those older guys that were stern and nasty if you got on his bad side but tolerable and willing to look out for those who lived here otherwise. Only their initial interaction when Aaron had first moved in years ago hadn’t been too pleasant, mostly because Oliver simply didn’t understand Aaron as ‘one of those artistic types’ and typically not even being around because of his wrestling schedule didn’t make him the most immediate choice for a tenant, but the man had backed off when Aaron proved time and time again that he caused no trouble for anyone else and mostly kept to himself when he was around, aka the kind of tenant Oliver loves the most because they cause him the least amount of headaches.
“I’m sorry Oliver, I’m really exhausted. It’s been… it’s been a night, to put it mildly. Can whatever you need please wait until morning?”
“No can do, Aaron. I’ve got something for you, and I was given explicit instructions to make sure you got it as soon as you came back through. I’m not happy with the fact that I had to stay up myself to do this, but I’m not going to argue when you, quite frankly, look like you’ve been through hell.”
“That’s putting it mildly…” Aaron couldn’t help but mutter as Oliver held out a large manila envelope with his name on it in thick black marker. It looked like it contained something of decent size, though not large enough to really warrant how large the envelope was. Aaron took it nonetheless as his brain attempted to kick itself back online to try and ponder what was inside.
To his relief, he didn’t get very far in that endeavor before Oliver had something else to say, his voice less agitated now with essentially staying up just to catch him and more concerned.
“You weren’t expecting something, were you? Because I find it odd that I’d be getting a delivery for a tenant this late into the night, and especially something that didn’t need a signature.”
“I haven’t ordered anything lately. Been too preoccupied with some other things to worry about doing any online shopping.”
“Then, in that case, I want you to be careful with whatever the hell that thing is. I’ll be upfront with you Aaron… the guy that delivered it? Real shady looking character. If he didn’t sound like he was at least halfway put together, I’d have assumed from the way he looked that I was talking with one of those homeless guys looking to try and bum a place off of me for the night. The only reason I even took that off his hands and heard him out was because he presented all this paperwork that at least made it seem like whatever’s in there is meant to help you or something. Still, I’d trust that thing about as far as I can throw it out your apartment’s window if you want me to be honest.”
“Did he give you a name or anything?”
Oliver just shook his head, eliciting a sigh from Aaron as he glanced back down at the envelope. Curiosity was beginning to consume him, and the only thing he felt grateful for in this situation right now was that this had seemingly ignited enough of a battle between his body and mind that he might be able to stay up for a bit and clear his head after all in hopes of dodging the nightmare bullet tonight.
“Thanks, Oliver. If it turns out to be anything truly bad, I’ll let you know ASAP. Right now, my body really just wants to crash after everything that’s happened over the past few hours, and I feel bad enough that you’ve stayed up later than you usually do just for this.”
“Hey, you know I at least give a damn about the people who live in my building. Unlike some people who only do this for the money, I want to at least keep this place clean, if you know what I mean.”
“I know I’m thankful for that. Have a good night Oliver.”
The older man nodded before disappearing back into his office/apartment as Aaron resumed his trek up the stairs. For as sluggish and battered as his body felt, his eyes seemed to show more life than they had at any point since the parking lot incident as he carefully scanned the package, trying to find any sign of who it could’ve been from or what it could possibly be. The description of the person who delivered it was both unfamiliar and left a lot to be desired, but it wouldn’t be the first time Aaron’s gotten some sort of strange gift out of the blue, usually from a fan of his work either in the ring or through his art and design endeavors trying to grab his attention for whatever reason.
Once he finally reached his floor and unlocked the door to his apartment, he flicked the lights on and relocked the door before tossing the package onto the kitchen counter, resolving to try and fix himself up first. With any luck, some ibuprofen would dull the physical pain still coursing through his limbs and caffeine would snap him out of his daze for a little bit so he could sort himself out because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the LAST thing he needed after a night like tonight was to be denied sleep because his mind had become so unstable that his dreams would be haunted by something. He had enough problems weighing heavily on his mind, and he was no good in figuring out what the hell the Perfect Pack truly does next if he was physically exhausted and mentally mangled.
“Alright, let’s see what the hell this thing is.”
After he’d taken the pills and brewed himself some coffee to snap himself awake a little more, he grabbed one of his kitchen knives and carefully cut open the package, careful not to damage whatever was inside but also keeping some distance just in case someone was trying to spring a trap on him. After the mess with Dylan years ago and especially as of late following the fan that tried to attack Owen at a fan event, it was hard to blame him for taking any chances. Thankfully, all that seemed to be inside the envelope once it was sliced open was its contents.
A rather big prescription bottle filled with very familiar-looking pills.
The moment he caught sight of the capsules that had already caused a significant amount of strife to his loved ones, Aaron’s immediate reaction was to slap the bottle away, though that only caused it to smack off the front of the microwave and roll right back over to where he stood against the counter. Cursing under his breath at this turn of events, he grabbed the bottle and went to go deposit it in the trash before he caught sight of the label, which had been plastered over whatever prescription this bottle was originally used for and had a message in black marker waiting for him.
CONSIDER THIS A GIFT FROM A FRIEND FOR WHEN A CREATIVE MIND LIKE YOURS NEEDS THAT LITTLE EXTRA SPARK TO BRING YOUR IDEAS TO LIFE
Aaron couldn’t help but scoff at the message and wanted to resume his brief trip toward the trash can, but something in the back of his head was stopping him. He couldn’t make it out at first, which worried him with how much it really didn’t want to let go of this godforsaken drug that was now in his possession, but after standing there thinking it over for a few minutes he finally managed to decipher two conflicting feelings towards this situation.
Part of him found itself curious about what these pills were truly capable of, considering both Alec and Liza had expressed reaching ‘his level’ of imagination while under their influence.
Another part of him realized that he was essentially holding evidence to feed the paranoia he’d been trying to suppress that there was a deeper connection to this mess that made it clear he was in the center of its crosshairs and anyone close to him was too close to potentially avoid getting hurt.
Of those two conflicting thoughts, naturally, the mere existence of the first one was terrifying. He never had and never would do drugs in any sort of fashion, and in this case, he even had a valid reason that had nothing to do with being ‘the stereotypical good boy’ or failing one of SCW’s drug tests or anything like that. These pills had already at least proven addictive enough to easily hospitalize his sister-in-law and youngest brother and do significant damage in the time they’d been in their systems. He’d never needed help in being creative before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn to drugs to try and empower his imagination now. His tired mind was being tempted, and he refused to take the bait.
The other, though, was equal parts confusing and worrisome all on its own. The mere fact that he was now holding the very thing that had found its way into his life in some respect on two separate and seemingly unrelated occasions over the past month all but assured him that there was no coincidence here. Even if this was just the latest drug craze that was making dealers bank out on the streets, there was someone who was deliberately trying to make sure he was both aware of it and tempted to throw it all away because of it. Considering it was hard to argue that he hadn’t felt this low in a very long time after everything that had happened on Breakdown, he was dealing with someone who sure as hell knew what they were doing.
Aaron finally seemed to snap out of it, taking a deep breath and setting the bottle down somewhere where he’d remember it but also ensured it’d be out of sight and out of mind while he was going about his usual daily business so as not to be tempted. He knew that whenever he was able to finally get a hold of Dr. Marsh-Asher, he had to add this to the list of things they’d need to discuss. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t just a string of convenient coincidences that just barely linked together anymore, and if he could get someone like James to validate his beliefs, then that gave him someone in his corner in trying to get to the bottom of this mess once and for all before it did any further harm to anyone else.
He shook his head and grabbed the envelope, deciding to pitch it and go lay in bed trying to sketch something to clear his head before sleep claimed him. Before he could drop it in the trash, his eyes caught something written in pencil near the bottom left corner of the envelope, light enough to easily miss but dark enough that you could read it once you found it. Aaron could only raise an eyebrow, however, because it was nothing more than a random series of letters-
A figure, familiar but having their face blurred, sitting in a doctor’s office where it feels like they do not belong.
A giant storm rolling through a once beautiful landscape, leaving nothing but decay in its wake.
A figure that looks like him is seen from the back as several faceless figures, dressed like the members of his immediate family and soon-to-be in-laws, all turning their backs on him.
A figure that feels like him but resembles almost a decaying corpse laying in a hospital bed, barely clinging to life.
With a gasp, Aaron suddenly jerked back, letting the envelope drop to the floor. He could feel himself stumble, blinking his eyes rapidly as though he were snapping out of a trance. He felt like he was more tired than he thought and his head was pounding, but he steadied himself against the counter and tried to forcibly slam his train of thought back on track. He was trying to actually gather his thoughts and make sense of whatever just flashed through his mind, but the more he tried to recall them, the more it felt like he was slamming into a mental brick wall. Silently praying it was just a weird effect of being as out of it as he was, he carefully grabbed the envelope – making sure not to glance at the jumbled letters that seemed to trigger the bizarre vision – and set it aside to also figure out later as he forced himself towards his bedroom and finally collapsed on his bed, only one thought prevailing above all else right now that made him feel as though he’d swallowed a block of lead.
What the hell was that?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’ll be painfully honest right now… last Breakdown was, without a doubt, one of the worst Breakdowns I’ve ever been a part of.That conclusion has absolutely nothing to do with A/C Unit, let me make that clear. The fact of the matter is, Owen and I walked into that match knowing full well by that point that because somebody might have been a little jealous that we spoiled his SCW debut some time back and thought he had the perfect payback at his fingertips, we were effectively eliminated and Bree and Sienna were moving on no matter what. Now, the easy solution to that whole situation would’ve been for the two of us to just lie down and give Cid and Asher a free win in return so their free ride wasn’t going exactly where they thought it would. And yet, that’s not what we did. It’s not because we owe those two anything or simply accepted that they’re better than us because I’d hardly call a disqualification win all that ways back as having truly proven anything… we marched out to that ring and gave Cid and Asher the hardest fight they’ve ever faced to date in the Tag League because that’s just what we do, and that’s the way it should be. Our place in the picture be damned, if A/C Unit wanted to have a semi-final then we were going to make them earn it, and I’d like to think we did just that. Yeah, we may have lost, but if I can say one thing to Asher real quick?
If you think we’re just going to take that loss and that’s the end of that, then you learned nothing from that night. The fact that you were willing to do whatever it took to win was met with me willing to do whatever it took to deny it to you, and if I haven’t earned your respect by now Asher, then I hope you and Cid do what you deserve to do and that’s go all the way and become Tag Team Champions because I can promise you that Owen and I will fight through hell if that’s what it takes to meet you in the ring once again, this time with that gold at stake.
We all know that losing sucks, regardless of the circumstances, but let’s address the bigger issue from that night: the fact that Sienna has become so unhinged that she’s willing to make herself into a carbon copy of Kelcey, the very thing I’m almost positive she swore she was trying to avoid being in the first place once upon a time, in a desperate bid to not only try and get Chris back when I fully respect the man for walking away from what he knew was a problem he shouldn’t have to be bound to, but also continue trying to upend Kelcey’s life for reasons that will only ever make sense to her. If you can watch the nightmare that unfolded in the parking lot on that night, look me dead in the eyes, and tell me that Kelcey was in the wrong for trying to defend herself from effectively being ABDUCTED, then you clearly have no soul. Add to it the fact that we’re not even addressing how someone who is supposed to be the family of her best friend was coerced into helping set this all up in the first place and her legitimate concerns over the role she unwillingly played are swept under the rug because everybody from that group is too ‘perfect’ to even be considered functionally human anymore, lest it taint their precious image that’s already unraveling more and more with each passing week.
…I’ll be honest, and it pains me to say this… but if I had a say in the matter, I’d have been fine being left off the pay-per-view card and staying by Kelcey’s side as she recovers.
But the fact of the matter is, Owen and I still have a job to do, and even if it doesn’t seem like it’s worth anything on paper, the Tag League still has one last match that needs to be taken care of before it can proceed to its next stage.
And if we made anything clear on that last Breakdown, it’s that we will never turn in anything less than our absolute best, regardless of what stakes there may or may not be.
Yeah, we found ourselves working from behind the proverbial eight ball right out of the gate, and that first loss was always weighing on our minds every time we walked out there to continue our tournament run. But at no point did that ever stop us from busting our asses and fighting to earn the win, even if it seems like it’s all for naught now that we’ve arrived at the end, and that’s because of exactly what I said to Asher and Cid: even if we aren’t moving on to the finals, the two of us have proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, exactly what we’re capable of as a tag team, and the fact that even among those two losses we were only ever truly beaten clean ONCE should speak volumes once this tournament is in the books and the fight to reach the top of the mountain and challenge for those crowns begins anew. I’d like to think there’s an argument to be made that Owen Cruze and Aaron Blackbourne might have earned themselves a shot like that, and even if we haven’t, we’re always willing to fight to make sure that’s an argument that can be ignored no longer.
Like it or not, the Perfect Pack isn’t dead quite yet, and a challenge like the Golden Boys isn’t going to change that.
If I’m going to keep being honest, the fact that you can call the Golden Boys one of the ‘true’ tag teams that should have, by all accounts, held a distinct advantage coming into the Tag League is actually kind of misleading. Yes, by all accounts they were a team coming in and they’ve challenged for the Tag Titles once before, but when you actually watch them compete you come to understand exactly why I’m iffy about referring to them as such. You have Bison Jones, a man who got the bare minimum of training in the one and only thing his trainer thought he’d excel at under such a rush job, doing all the work, and then you have Adam Allocco, a long-time veteran of the ring wars and definitely on the list of the greatest pure in-ring technicians of all time, doing nothing but watching his pupil effectively carry him to victory while he tries to reap all the rewards.
Does that sound like a tag team to you?
Bison, I’ve seen the way you operate in the ring, and your strength is no joke. The problem is the fact that it’s all you have going for you, and your own partner is to blame for that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you don’t seem too happy with having to stick with Adam when you guys aren’t in the ring, and I’m sure you’re chomping at the bit to be able to prove what you’re capable of on your own terms and not having to effectively carry someone to glory he’s done nothing to earn. If you had the opportunity to break away from Adam, maybe add a few more tools to your arsenal to become more well-rounded and therefore far more dangerous, then I have no reason to doubt that you could be a true one-man army here in SCW.
As it stands now, however, you’re effectively no better than a hired gun whose sole purpose is to be the muscle that gets Adam the one thing that’s always eluded him through no one’s fault but his own. If you’re fine with that for whatever reason, then that’s on you. But you shouldn’t be fine with that, and it’s sure as hell going to take more than one mountain of a man to stop the two of us from finishing the Tag League strong.
I get it, you’re big and bad, it’s literally in your name when it’s announced every time you compete, but Owen and I have faced ‘big and bad’ before. You remember the aforementioned guy who kind of screwed us over in this thing because he’s being petty, JaMarcus Avery? He’s every bit as big and bad as you are, and he proved it the night he debuted for SCW alongside Jake Starr, a man who’s notorious for giving your mentor and partner trouble over the years. And yet, despite what he brought to the table alongside the experience and talent of Jake, we still earned a victory on that night. This match is the exact same scenario, except I’d dare to wager that Adam’s not as eager to bother trying to prove anything and content with letting you do all the dirty work. After all, this match effectively means nothing in the final standings, so why should you guys even bother, right?
It’s that kind of mindset that I’ve always hated when it came to you, Adam. I won’t deny that once upon a time, you were a name to be reckoned with in SCW, and you’ve more than earned every accolade you once held. But in recent years you’ve become no better than a leech, trying to find whoever is willing to hear you out so you can ‘guide’ them to the top while taking all the credit through the barest minimum of what can be considered effort. You tried to do that with your own son, you tried to do that with Gavin Taylor at one point, and you’re doing it now with Bison. It almost seems to me like you’re no different than so many names, many of whom I’ve had to put up with directly for far too long, that desperately cling to the days where people once respected you and took you seriously and instead of simply letting go and accepting that maybe, just maybe, your time has passed, you dig for anything you can get your hands on to use and abuse so long as people today are still talking about Adam Allocco, even if the reason they’re talking has nothing to do with respect.
Why be loved for who you used to be so long as you can live in infamy, right?
You know what wouldn’t surprise me? I wouldn’t put it past you, Adam, to try and address Owen and me in a way that makes it seem like Alistaire never meant anything to us where he was everything to you. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble even mentioning the one match in Fatal Fortunes where my victory denied Alistaire a chance to challenge for the World Title… a victory that I already told him, to his face, was one I regret because I know how much it meant to him but one I wouldn’t take back because he would have wanted me to give him nothing less than my very best had he won on that night. The biggest difference between father and son is the fact that Alistaire always has and always will work harder than just about everybody else to rightfully earn his place and prove he belongs at the top of the mountain, and that is why I both respect him and call him my friend, why he is still just as much a part of the Perfect Pack even now.
All you’ve ever done is make claims you don’t want to try backing up and trying to coast on his name and accomplishments, Bison, and whoever else makes this a walk in the park for you to finally say you’ve been SCW Tag Team Champion at least once before you retired for good, and that’s exactly why I plan on giving you a little reality check in Alistaire’s honor on Sunday night.
Many people will look at this match, the last of the Tag League before the semi-finals start, as just another match on a stacked pay-per-view card. Adam and Bison might even consider phoning it in because there’s nothing to gain here. But Owen and I promise you all that we’re giving you exactly what you deserve because this business deserves no less than our absolute best regardless of the circumstances. Yeah, maybe we’ve got other problems waiting in the wings to focus on, and yeah, maybe there isn’t much to this match in the grand scheme of things, but we’ll just have to make it mean something for the long run, now won’t we?
For those who think they’ve seen the Perfect Pack at our lowest point, I invite you to tune in to Last Grasp of Reality, because we’re going to make a statement, loud and clear, that we are far from finished, and things like the events of the last Breakdown are nothing more than fuel to the fire of exactly why we do this, why we keep pushing forward and fighting our fight, and why, when all is set and done, nobody in this company will ever forget out names.