Post by Ezra Gideon on Sept 16, 2023 20:55:48 GMT -5
“I prefer a real villain to a false hero.” - Killer Mike
The Foreword
So much to unpack in WGWF right now, the formation of a new group, being led by JMont. I use the term led, loosely, because that chump couldn’t run a Dairy Queen, much less lead a team. Maybe I’ll put a team together, just a group of people who hate JMont and want to make sure he fails at every turn. We could travel the country just fucking with Joe.
Nah
Too easy, still an amusing idea though.
The more important thing to talk about is the debut episode of “Melee”, where I’ll be facing someone I’ve never fought before. I love facing new peeps because it challenges me to reach greater heights. To raise my personal bar, and theirs.
Kraken had that same opportunity, he wasn’t ready. This seems to be a trend with new people coming to WGWF. They all think they will take something from the established stars, the guys who have given this company everything they have since day 1. Spencer Adams, Kraken, and now Jay Omega. My next opponent though, now that guy has a history of winning titles. Will it matter? Do I respect his history or his legacy?
Meh.
For Jay Omega it’s an opportunity to prove he belongs here. Now before you get too offended little fella, allow me to explain. I’ve been doing this for a long time, I don’t know you, I’ve never even heard of you. Chances are good that you have the same perspective of me. The difference is, I matter here, while you’re still trying to gain the attention of the management. From the beginning, this company was built around 2 men. Myself and Peter Vaughn. I enjoy saying that because it pisses so many people off. You will be facing one of the cornerstones that this company was built on. If you manage to win this match, it automatically elevates you into a new tax bracket. You’ll gain the notoriety and respect you crave.
Don’t focus on winning too much though.
Focus on surviving.
The magic 8 ball says that the outlook is not favorable.
Fade.
Never bet against me.
Ken Davison was my best friend in this industry, we’d been traveling the roads together for almost twenty years. That all changed when he married my wife’s best friend and they started building a family of their own. We had a disagreement about our respective NFL teams though. It had been a fun back and forth, and the end result was that we bet on the game. If the Cowboys won that game, he would have to wear an Ezelkiel Elliot jersey. Needless to say, he was not happy about the forty to nothing blowout of his team, and, well, me being me, I couldn’t stop grinning. It was almost like winning a title or something, just because of how passionate he is about football and his team. I was just as bad to be fair, being a Cowboy’s fan was tough these days, so we take our victories where we can get them.
Ken was known for dampening those kinds of victories with me. It was fun and funny at the same time. So, when he showed up wearing a New England Patriots Elliot jersey I wasn’t all that surprised.
Mac: You’re such an ass.
He spread his arms out and shrugged in response, the smirk was unmistakable.
Ken: I met the spirit of the bet, you didn’t specify a Cowboy’s jersey in the bet.
We glared at each other for a long moment and ended up laughing at each other.
Mac: Okay asshole, you win.
I said it with a smile, so he would know it was all in good fun. Hell, I wasn’t mad about it at all. Ken was a good man, and one who had overcome so much in his life, that few truly understood what he had been through to get to this point.
Ken: At least it wasn't his Eagles jersey.
I shake my head in disgust right at first but then begin laughing. I knew that some asshole out there had probably created one even though he never played for Philly.
two hours later
The DawgHouse Saloon was one of my favorite parts of the Rabbit in Vegas. Today I was visiting the pay window after winning big on the Cowboy/Giants game. I gave the receipt to the cashier and she smiled as she scanned it, her eyes getting big when she saw the final total owed.
Cashier: Holy B…uhm, excuse me sir, I’ll be right with you.
I arched an eyebrow as she motioned to someone I couldn’t see. A middle aged man entered the room and looked at the receipt, the total and then up at me. He smiled, signed what he needed to sign and left.
Cashier: I apologize for the delay.
I handed her my id and my Rabbit card. She went through her procedure and then handed me the card back with a new receipt. I looked at it and smiled.
Mac: Thanks sweet girl, always a pleasure doing business with you.
She smiled as I walked away, I had cleaned up nicely on that bet and was feeling a bit smug as I began my trek back towards the door.
Mac: Cleaned up on two bets today, hard to beat that.
I was talking more to myself than anyone really. It amused me, to be completely fair about it. Ken would have to wear that Elliot jersey and the money I had won from the game was a nice bonus. That’s when I spotted the sign about a cash game, where all proceeds from it would go to charity. The winner of the event would earn two hundred thousand and the buy in was fifty thousand. The buy-in was about twenty percent of what I had on my card with the rabbit, so why not. I took my place at the table and handed my card to the dealer, he scanned me in and handed my card back.
Dealer: Mr. Bane, which charity will you be playing for?
He had his clipboard out and waited on me to respond.
Mac: The Peter Mayhew Foundation.
You couldn’t have removed the dealer's smile with an air grinder.
Dealer: A most excellent choice Mr. Bane, do you know him?
I smiled a sad smile.
Mac: I did, Peter was a great man and did some amazing things for many people during his lifetime. I miss him and his wife Angie very much.
He nodded solemnly as I said it. The original Wookiee was missed by star wars fans. He was a once in a lifetime human being.
Dealer: I know all too well, he’s the reason my sister can breathe again.
That’s when he teared up, and had to have a moment. He went on about his business as more people joined the table and he processed their payments. I waited patiently as the card table filled with people of all races, sizes and colors.The person who intrigued me most was an older man, in his late 70’s perhaps. He was described to me as a real estate mogul. The most striking thing wasn’t his shatner 2000 haircut but how small his hands were. I knew who he really was of course, but we don’t say that name in polite company. They get triggered way too easily. I’ll just refer to him as 45 from this point forward. So as I studied the competition, there weren’t any big names from the poker world other than Phil Helmuth of course, but it was only a matter of time before he imploded.
45: I have ten grand that says he self-destructs before the end of the first round.
I chuckled, betting on a man’s tendencies was an interesting take. I looked over at Phil and raised my glass to him. He was calm, cool and collected. He nodded in my direction and I smiled.
Mac: I’ll take that bet.
From my shirt pocket, I withdrew a 10k credit chip and laid it to the side. A rep from sportsbook took our credit vouchers and recorded the bet. The first round flew by and by the end of it, only myself, and 45 remained at our table. He had a large chip lead on me but I wasn’t concerned, being a strategist has its benefits. With round one complete, the rep from the sportsbook came over and handed me my winnings from the bet and 45 frowned.
Mac: Betting on human nature is a terrible idea.
I smiled as I said it, especially with an election coming up in our near future.
45: It is that, but when it hits, the pay off is yuge.
I chuckled at the intended mispronunciation that he was known for using. He was right of course, but with the amount of enemies he had his goose was cooked. He just wasn’t smart enough to realize it just yet. The poker room attendants started collecting everyone’s chips and moving them to the final table. It was on a raised platform, which I found amusing since this wasn’t being televised. Myself, 45, Phil, a short read headed man, and two blonde women were all part of the final table. 45 looked at me, he had been studying me all night, looking for any kind of weakness or tell.
45: Double or nothing?
I smiled at him in response.
Mac: What’s the bet?
45: That you are the first one eliminated from this table.
I chuckled at the bet. I was the short stack at the table, and instead of betting on human nature he was trying to use statistics and analytics. I took the two 10k credit chips and laid them to the side. He matched my movement with a smirk and a laugh.
Mac: Done, but you made a mistake.
45: How so?
Mac: Never bet against me.
He smirked at me and repeated what I said, trying to mock me. I shook my head in disgust, this guy was such an arrogant prick. The first round of cards were dealt, he would go before me in the current set up. I waited and he bet an opening bet of 200k. I still hadn't looked at my cards yet.
Mac: All in.
A gasp ran through the crowd that had gathered. Phil studied me and folded as did every other person at the table except for 45 who quickly called.
45: You didn’t even look at your hole cards, foolish.
Phil: Confident.
I raised my glass to Phil and he shot me a wink. We had played cards together before, so he knew what I was doing. With all bets satisfied, we turned our cards over.
Dealer Mr. Bane has a pair of tens as his hole cards, Mr. 45 has a pair of aces as his hole cards.
The dealer dealt the first 3 cards out, 10 10 ace, giving me 4 10’s. That gave 45 a full house. There would be no more betting and he rolled the next card. 9 of spades and then the last card is a jack of spades. The chips were moved my way and the next hand began. One of the blonde women, Jackie was her name based on the tag she wore, was the first to be eliminated by Phil. This made myself, Phil and 45 about even in chips. The rep from the sportsbook then brought me my winnings from the previous bet with 45. My pocket was now 40k heavier than when I started. Phil then eliminated the other blonde headed woman, Sika, becoming the chip leader at the table.
The red headed man had been playing tight the entire time this had gone on, he quickly was eliminated by 45 when he tempted fate on an inside straight draw to 45’s flush. We were now down to 3 players and the chip leader was still Helmuth. He shot me another wink as he forced 45 to go all in. 45 kept checking his hole cards, so I knew he was playing some off suit bs that he shouldn’t be. When they turned the cards, because I had folded. 45 was playing a jack of diamonds and a 2 of spades. Phil had his pocket kings. The kings prevailed and 45 was eliminated. He stopped briefly and shook our hands, after he turned away, I quickly used the hand sanitizer. His plain clothes escort quickly escorted him out of the casino while Phil and I watched him go. He was a disgusting human being and the hand sanitizer didn’t help me to feel any cleaner. Phil now had a commanding chip lead, and was playing really well. The cards would change now with one less player in the game. I ended up folding the next three hands because of the odds and I hated being the victim of a bad beat.
The next hand was dealt, my hole cards were a pair of deuces. I came in with a reasonable bet and again Helmuth bet over the top of me, trying to force me all in. I paused for a moment, drinking some water from the bottle in front of me.
Mac: Hope is not a strategy.
He smirked in response, shaking his head because I was frustrating him as I had most of the night.
Phil: You can’t win if you don’t play, cowboy.
I smiled a feral smile at the man.
Mac: All in.
He was playing suited connectors, the five and six of spades against my pair of twos. Needless to say, I was disappointed when the 3, 4 and seven of spades rolled over. He had beaten me with a straight flush.
Mac: Good job, Phil.
He nodded to me and heaved a sigh of relief. He had been on a long losing streak, and maybe this would break him out of that slump. I quickly donated my winnings from the tournament to the charity I was playing for. Phil looked in my direction.
Phil: Which charity were you playing for?
Mac: The Peter Mayhew Foundation.
He looked over at the dealer and smiled.
Phil: How strange, looks like they won big today.
I smiled in response, he had lived up to his end of the deal we’d made earlier that day. The deal was that I would job the tournament to him if he agreed to help the foundation. He and I both knew, based on the line up, that no one in the tournament could touch either of us. So we devised a plan in order to help both of us. That meeting had been recorded and I had the copy of the meeting in my pocket. We shook hands and departed on friendly terms, since I slipped him the copy of the meeting during that exchange. If he had departed from the agreement, he knew he wouldn’t leave the rabbit under his own power, and his reputation would be ruined. He turned to me right before making his exit.
Phil: You’re a bastard, Bane.
I smiled and nodded my head.
Mac: Glad you noticed, good luck this year.
Without another word, he turned and left the room, just as my wife, Amber, had come in.
Amber: What was that all about?
I smiled and gave her a hug and a kiss.
Mac: Just Phil, being Phil.
She arched an eyebrow in response.
Amber: He won, didn’t he?
I laughed in response.
Mac: Yeah, but no matter how much he wins, he’s never happy. He’s just a sour old bastard.
She smirked at me.
Amber: Seems familiar somehow.
I rolled my eyes.
Mac: You wound me.
She slugged me in the arm and laughed.
Amber: I wasn’t talking about you, asshole.
I do enjoy winning, even when I lose, I thought to myself as we headed towards the door.
Fade.
Heroes and Villains
The Velvet Rabbit, Las Vegas, NV - The Rooftop
The weather in Vegas has started to change, for the better if you don’t like hot weather. It was still warm, but at this time of night, it was very pleasant. The warm breeze ruffled my hair and caused the hair of my beard to move ever so slightly. I stand near the edge of the rooftop, a small table and chair provided by the staff. An ashtray of course had been provided as well. The views of the Las Vegas skyline were pretty spectacular at night. I inhaled deeply. I dug the Cuban cigar I had purchased earlier and smiled as the recording began. I take a seat and look at the camera and smile.
Mac: Well, well, well. Here we are, getting ready for the debut episode of Melee. This is really quite amazing when you think about it. When WGWF first relaunched, the industry itself was against it, and all of us who were participating in it.
I smirk at the thought as I took a drag from the cigar.
Mac: See, this cigar cost more than a lot of you make per show. It has an amazing taste and smell much like this debut does for Chris and all of CCPE. It smells and tastes like victory. To all of our haters out there that shat on the relaunch and the roster that began this crazy journey. I can pretty safely say to you all from all of us.
I pause for dramatic effect.
Mac: Fuck you.
I smile as I extend the middle fingers of both hands towards the camera.
Mac: But wait, there’s more. One year of dominating your air waves on top of over two years of dominating this industry. That’s right, I’m talking about not only WGWF but CCPE as well. The wrestling company known as WGWF has grown exponentially, it’s grown fast but not too fast as is the case with some companies. You’ve all seen it, a company grows too fast and implodes. It doesn’t have the infrastructure to support its ambition. We do, and it shows, thanks to Chris, Candice and others. I could go on and on about how proud I am to represent this company, but there are pressing matters that also need my attention.
I tap the cigar ash in the ashtray, and follow that up with a long drag to make sure it stays lit. Even the best cigars would go dead on you if you didn’t actively smoke them.
Mac: This company is full of fake villains and wannabe heroes. It also has a few real villains, people who never try to redeem themselves and are perfectly happy and comfortable in their own skin.
I set my cigar down and point to myself with the thumbs of both hands. Then I pick my cigar back up and take another long drag. I exhale slowly, allowing the smoke to drift around my face and head.
Mac: Which is truly worse? A fake hero or a real villain? Don’t worry Omega, it’s rhetorical.
Another pause as I roll the tip of my cigar in the ashtray.
Mac: This industry is full of guys like Jay Omega, the pretend hero. If you watch and listen to him long enough, you’ll realize he’s in jeopardy of being a ripoff of deadpool.
I sneer as I tap the cigar in the ashtray.
Mac: The truly ironic thing is when the villain becomes the hero. Not the hero the fans want, but the hero they deserve.
I sigh audibly as I take another drag from the cigar.
Mac: Ham and eggers don’t deserve anything, not from me or my family. It will start with you, Omega, only because every great story has to start somewhere.
I put the cigar out in the ashtray, as another tumbler filled with an amber colored liquor arrived.
Mac: They say that clarity is kindness so I’ll be crystal clear. It’s where my very “real” story begins. I’ve sat by too long as people like JMont have gained traction in this company. You’ve got a group of your own and haven’t done shit. You could have stepped up your game and stood up to people like him.
I lift the tumbler up and I pause.
Mac: But maybe you’re smarter than you look, maybe, just maybe you recognize me and my family as a bigger threat. That would make sense, but I don’t think you’re that bright. That just makes you and your bunch a natural fit around here. The biggest majority of the company doesn’t see the writing on the wall yet. I’ve hinted at what is about to happen but they just blow it off as me talking crap to mess with JMont and his little troup of losers.
I shake my head in disgust, then I take a long sip of the scotch in my tumbler.
Mac: A wise man once said, “You’re a daisy if you do.”
Fade.