Where have you been?
What have you heard?
What have you heard?
I awaken after my match at the mansion. I didn't even remember getting into the car after the match. After getting eliminated I had to sort out my head. I think. I think it was a cab. I'm not sure. I had on a face I hadn't made. It took a while, but I finally found my mojo. Got back here to the mansion. Sneaked in. I don't know how long I've been out. I pull on my gloves, the mask, and a robe. I don't feel like wearing that suit again. I head down. It's dark. Looks like no one is up. I get into the kitchen and I see a light on. Shadow. He smiles at me.
"Oh hello there, good to have you back, Taxman!"I look at him oddly. I mean I took some time off after the match with Danny. Didn't I?
"I mean I've only been gone a week..." He looks at me oddly. I shrug it off and open the fridge. Let's see...Oh OJ! "Sweet!"
I pour myself a glass and look over at Shad. He pauses, then looks at me with a worried look on his face. Is my fly open...wait I'm not wearing pants. "A week? You have been missing for over three months... Are you ok?"
Three months. That can't be right. That can't be...No. I. AHHH. Something. What's. Ringing in my ears. No. I remember I took a vacation. I needed a break. I went to Hawaii...I...I...What the hell is going on. Ahhh!! I shake my head for a moment. “That...That can't be right. Last thing I remember is getting hit in the head with a shovel and...waking up in Hawaii...”
"Hawaii? Interesting place to wake up at. When we dug up the plot, it was empty, you were gone."He pulls up a chair next to me. I'm so confused."We were worried sick, I sent out Sanford to try to find--anything, but there was nothing at all. Until you started to send these weird messages, which seemed to try to point us in the right direction. Well, kind of..."
"I know. I hate tropical climates...I don't tan well, but someone suggest I go on vacation... “I'm so confused. This isn't adding right. It's like there is a fog in my mind. I don't remember. I need to get all of us together so we can compare notes. Mani should be able to help. I stand up and start looking around the room. This looks familiar...I think. “Okay. Well. We can figure this out. You said I left you some clues. What were they? And have you seen Manikin? I'd like to hear him tell me what's going on to.”
Shadow furrows his brow at me like I've said something strange...er than usual. I mean it's me. I am the weird one...right? "Mannequin? Oh boy, this is going to be a long one. Yes, you left some clues, a message written in blood on a piece of burlap, sent by carrier pigeon. A yodelgram..." He motions for me to sit down. "Mannequin, that was almost a year ago... So let's forget about him for now. What is the first thing you remember in Hawaii?" “Mani's not around? A yodelgram...heh...that does sound like me...Um...I just remember being on the beach looking at the ocean and then being shoved out to go fight in that match. This guy. Blonde hair. Ponytail. I think I know him. He said go out there and help Shad and The GC beat up these guys. Watch out for the masked one. Then I saw our lord and savior Mike Rolash and I was like okay this is making sense...I think...Am...Am I okay?”I sit down. Shaking a bit. Why am I shaking? I never feel like this...
"A blonde guy... Not someone we've come across here. And sounds like he is on Stewart's side. Just to avoid any extra confusion, Jon Stewart took over as commish from you after you disappeared."Stewart? What? No. Wait. Why does that. The ringing is back. It's like a bad hangover up in here. Up in here. I'm gonna lose my mind up in here. Up in here. No. Jon Stewart is retired. What? No. That wasn't the guy. What did he look like. Who was he? Who...Wait...I know...
“His name is DJ. He...well he was the guy who trained me...the guy who trained everyone who wore the mask besides...I can't remember. I'm sorry. Maybe I got some dain bramage or something from that shovel. Maybe? I mean if Rishel decided he's a good fit then I guess we have to deal with it.”
"Yeah, shovels can have that effect, if not used properly. Rish has been out of the picture for a while, too, but let me see, if I can jog your memory." He turns towards the door. "Myfanwy, can you please bring me a picture of Mia?"
Mia?...That name sounds familiar. “Mia...”
A redhead appears a short moment later, holding a photo of a woman with her arm wrapped around mine. I look at it. The ringing comes back. Something. What? Forbush! Jamica! Three! What? I don't...Why am I...I am...What is going...Who...Who...
“Shad...This is going to sound crazy. I know I'm suppose to know who this is. I know she's important to me, but...I can't remember who she is!”Tax starts to cry as he holds the photo. “I don't even know who I am anymore! All I remember is you, Mani, and I running roughshot in CWF for the past year. I remember fighting a lot and...I don't...I don't...I don't remember...”
He reaches over and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Her name is Mia. And remember the masked one DJ warned you about? She took over Mia and we are getting her out..."
Someone has done this. Someone. Something is trying to steal my life. My family. Maybe something more. I've lost a year of my life...and I'm going to tear their throats out to get it the fuck back!"...Someone's gonna pay for this, and you're right. We're going to save her. Just one question...do we have any other help?"
That sweet maniacal bastard I call brother smiles."Yes. We have help. You might not remember them, but we are The Forsaken. We are Family."
I smile. For the first time since the match. Something feels right."Right...I think it's time to remind everyone...just why they should be afraid of me! Heh...Hehehhe...AHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!!"
They say I have a booking.
Well. I'm never one to run away from a fight even if I am not all there. Actually. I'm never been fully here so why should this matter anymore. So who is the lucky bastard whose going to get his face reckoned by me!
K. Carlton Davison the third...
You ever...You ever just see a name and you realize that god intended them to be a fucking douchebag?The only thing that makes is sadder...is that there were two bad prequels to this meat monkey.
Apparently this guy thinks he's a big deal because he won a title from some kind of organization we are part of. Apparently I'm suppose to care.
I do care. I care a lot actually. I care about a lot of things. Remembering who I am for once. See. The rest of you don't know because of safety reasons. Or at least that's what I remember, but the truth is I needed to know who I was because of something important and now it's gone. Not only that, but someone has apparently been fucking with my life for the past year. Things don't match up. And the only thing that makes sense...is bringing the pain.
You see. They want me to come back and forget something or someone that I need to remember. So the only way to jog this memory is going to be to fight.
Guess whose the poor and fortunate soul who gets to be my first bitch of twenty nineteen!
So you call yourself “The Next Generation God” with an attitude higher than my tolerance for religion! Oh boy. I'm going to enjoy this. I mean I enjoy my work, but you. You seem like a project. Kinda like...oh what's his name. I can't remember. I like how that you'll probably bring up something that I don't remember so I guess I'll just say sure that happened for now till I remember, but you know what I do remember that you probably don't.
No matter what you've won...I'm still a former CWF World Champion, and you got a participation trophy.
I hate to add rocksalt to an open wound, but let's go a little deeper. Tell me. You want to rip apart my look, but I stand out in a crowd. What do you do? There's like eighteen guys I can think of who do the whole I'm the best around shit in this sport. We got Jarvis, but he's part time so I guess you gotta fill the slack with his timeshare shit. Let's see...then we got Colton...Colton...Who the fuck is Colton again?
Oh...someone who doesn't matter. Just like you.
I've missed this. It's like I've woken up from a nap and people have forgotten who I am. People have forgotten that none of them ever had a chance against me. They say it's the mind games. It's not that. That's the excuse. And that's all you seem to make Kentucky Chicken Three.
Act like the cock of the walk...you gonna get fried by me with eleven original herbs and spices.
And after twenty four hours of me frying and dropping your ass in the shitter...you'll be in the septic tank with the rest of the turds I've laid to rest.
You see. You're coming in here trying to get attention. I understand that. I applaud that. I can respect that. You want something you haven't earned yet. Hell...that's most of the roster here, but I can understand the desire. You want to get attention. You don't like that I'm someone that gets everyone hyped up in this damn place. You want that! Deep down! You want people to like you, but you don't even like yourself. You are so obsessed with yourself, but the truth is little bitch tit wannabe your daddy horrible scripted insulted little shitstain mother fucker...
I'm where I am because I'm consistent. You're not.
If you were. This might actually be a challenge. Your in ring work is just a pale comparison of everyone here whose a second to third gen wrestler. Piss poor diet version of your sperm donors.
Some like MJF are worth it. Some of them are actually good. And some are just Ducebags...
See. Normally. I'd make someone like you my pet project to turn you around. To make you into something actually useful to my home, but right now, sadly for you because you need it...
I don't have time for one note shitty ass no talents who won't fucking make it a year here right now!
Jiggle lose this suppression...Can you do that for me frand?
Because if you can't...well...I may not remember the last year so good...but you'll forget how to not shit your pants after I'm done with you!