Post by Mr.Ego on Jun 5, 2015 0:12:59 GMT -5
Friday, June 5
I advised him to arrive mid-week, to ensure that he would be able to get the proper amount of rest, in order to be at one-hundred percent for his World Title Match on Monday. As usual, he doesn’t feel the need to listen.
Surprise, surprise.
Each of the last three days I’ve stood here within Cumbica Airport, and each of the last three days, it’s been a waste of my time. So to say that my trepidation about today was exceedingly great would be a gross understatement. Even when I saw ‘Vain Force One’ touchdown, I expected it to be a great ruse…one more joke that Alan Wallace could play on Simon Wellington.
Of course the greatest joke of all is that I allowed it to happen in the first place.
Alas, I stood by as he debarked his private jet…and I watched as he handed out his business card to each and every Brazilian female that he came into contact with. Of course I would be remiss if I didn’t say, after seeing them, I don’t blame him in the slightest.
His customary smirk was plastered on his face as he strolled up to me. He attempted to speak, but I simply held up my hand, shook my head side-to-side, and then pointed down the corridor towards the exit.
The time for him and I to have a heart-to-heart was coming, but that time was not now.
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June 1, 2015
The entire world watched with bated breath, awaiting the announcement of who the final elimination would be. How ironic, that the elimination that brought us down to three, is the same individual that inspired ‘Yours Truly’ to begin jotting down his thoughts in the first place.
‘The Embodiment of Fear’…reduced to runner-up status, yet again. Pity.
With Deimos falling short, I now know that my next opponent will be one of three men…each of which I am all too familiar with.
They are three men that would love nothing more than to knock me off of my proverbial pedestal, and ascend to the throne they feel they are destined to perch upon.
They are three men whose detest of ‘Mr. Ego’ is well-known, as it eats away at them more and more, with each passing day.
They are three men…whose symbolic masks are much more complex than the one that I purchased to celebrate my impending victory at Kobayashi Maru.
Maybe it is time to begin stripping away the layers…
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The two men walk into the lobby of the L’Hotel Porto Bay Sao Paulo. Without speaking, Simon makes a beeline towards the elevator. Vain strolls over to where his ‘Syndicate’ stablemates are seated.
Killian: “He looks bloody well a pisser, Alan. What in the hell did you do now?”
“You know Simon…always making a mountain out of a molehill. This time around it was something about my not paying attention to him, and how I don’t listen to the advice that he willingly gives me.”
Zane: “That’s almost a weekly occurrence though, Vain. Did he throw in anything new this time?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. I wasn’t listening.”
Killian: “He’s slightly wankerish anyway, old chap. I wouldn’t pay it any mind.”
“He means well, I suppose. Bah, he’ll be fine. So have we begun preparing the celebration yet?”
Zane: “The last time we truly celebrated, Killian bagged a Princess. Not sure there are Princesses in this shithole.”
Killian: “Of course there are, lad. They’re just called porn stars here.”
“Oh, we definitely have to get a few of those. But don’t be a fool, Killian. Wrap your tool.”
Zane: “Yeah, because these broads are dirty.”
“Is Miss Morgan making it down, K?”
Killian: “She damn well better. She is who I plan to celebrate my victory with.”
Zane: “Still think you have a shot, eh Killian?”
Killian: “More than a mere shot, my boy. She won’t be able to withstand the English charm much longer.”
“In a few short days, we’re going to have yet another chance to shut the mouths of our detractors. Killian will retain his Chaos Title…I will retain my World Title…and Zane gets to bring down the entire ‘establishment’, by taking out a piece of the Consortium. And the mere fact that Miss Morgan is finally out of that hellhole house might just be the biggest victory of all.”
Zane: “So what you’re saying is…we’re going to need a lot of whores.”
Killian: “Yes he is, lad. Yes he is.”
Vain rises from the table, and throws down a hundred for the drink that he had.
“Well boys, I need to get to the arena. Autograph session in an hour.”
Without awaiting a reply, he turns and heads back out the door.
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June 2, 2015
Jet Somers. The man affectionately known as Opie amongst the legions of wrestling fans worldwide has been a staple within this company for many years. He has literally seen and done it all in this profession, and on the surface, it would seem that he would be primed to unseat ‘The Money Maker’, and begin yet another reign as the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World. And he would make a great champion.
That is what I would be saying, had I kept my eyes closed for the better part of the last few years.
Jet Somers is engulfed in guilt, and the very things that weigh on him…were – either partially or completely - of his own doing. Imagine that…the bastion of all that is true and just…playing a hand in some of the most telling stories of the last few years.
He stood by and allowed the love of his life to be butchered at the hands of a psychopath. He allowed the sister, whose family took him in when he was a child, to be kidnapped and tortured by a man who should have been locked in a padded cell decades ago. His need for vengeance pushed a young, naive rookie to the brink of madness. And his arrogance allowed PMN to be yanked out from under him.
This is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
I shudder at the mere thought.
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“You didn’t get everything out of your system on the way to the hotel?”
Vain has a wide grin on his face, as Simon Wellington slowly makes his way towards him on his rascal.
“Do you really need to ride that thing everywhere you go?”
“Don’t you own a segway that you use to traverse the grounds of your estate in Miami?”
“Point taken, Mr. Wellington.”
“I just wanted to reiterate how important it is that you were listening to what I was telling you, Alan. You do realize the importance of retaining your title, and continuing to build your legacy, right?
“Of course I do, Simon.”
“I’m not so sure that you do, Mr. Wallace. Whoever your opponent shall be, they hold all the cards in this matchup. Each of them know the opponent that they must prepare for. You aren’t afforded that luxury, Alan. And while you gallivant around planning dates and parties, those three men are preparing to embarrass you in front of the world. Do you not realize that?”
The smile disappears from Vain’s lips.
“I know exactly what is staring me in the face, Wellington. Just like I knew what was staring me in the face when I successfully defended this title against Deimos; just like I knew what was staring me in the face when I won this title from vonKnorre. You think taking someone’s best shot is something new to me…something I’ve just had to contend with, since winning the UGWC World Title? Please…I’ve been dealing with that my entire career, simply because of who I am.”
This time it is Simon that attempts to speak, but Vain cuts him off.
“Just like I have proven time and time again over the course of my career, it doesn’t matter who they put in front of me. Whether it’s Jet, Robert, or Martin…my opponent is irrelevant, because my greatest opponent is myself.”
“Strive to out-do myself from my last match…”
“Strive to continue getting better for my next match…”
“Strive to be the best night in, and night out, to be the highlight of everyone’s night.”
“No opponent will ever measure up to what I put upon myself, simply because they aren’t good enough to push me like I push myself.”
“And deep down…they all know it.”
Vain turns and makes a beeline towards his signing table, leaving Simon Wellington seated on his rascal…grinning from ear to ear.
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June 3, 2015
Dirge. He is a man whose reputation has preceded him ever since he stepped foot into a wrestling ring. He has the size, the strength, and the attitude to completely dominate anyone and everyone that is put in front of him. On paper, he is a man that is perfectly capable of carrying the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship for as long as he so chooses.
The problem is…he isn’t Dirge. Not anymore.
His life is in shambles, and he lives on the street. That is the life that he chose over his own family. He would rather eat out of dumpsters, than have dinner with his wife and children.
A mind truly is a terrible thing to waste.
Of course maybe I should have seen it coming. Honestly, only a man that has lost his grip on reality would choose to back Donovan Hastings over ‘Vanity at its Finest’. Sadly, that is exactly what Dirge did. And yet he wonders why Vain took the path that he did.
Even if you add all the personalities together…this is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
Preposterous.
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The line wraps around the entire arena. Fans as far as the eye can see, diligently waiting for an autograph from their favorite UGWC entertainment professional.
Good thing that the company scheduled Vain’s autograph session separately from all of the others. They wouldn’t want anyone’s panties getting in a bunch, while their lines sit empty. Bits of one-sided conversations are heard, as Vain jots down his John Hancock, and then motions for the next in line to step forward.
“Hola, sexy. Vain’s number is on the back flap…”
“What’s up, little man? Good to meet your hero, isn’t it…”
“Aren’t you a little old to be standing here in line? And quit scratching yourself…there are women and children present…”
“Glad to see that you’re a Vain fan, Spider. I admire your work as well…”
“Of course I will sign your breasts. Vain is nothing, if not a giver…”
Every thirty minutes or so, a member of Vain’s harem bring out even more stacks of books, and place on the table. Vain continues signing autographs for what feels like an eternity.
As the line finally dwindles, and Vain is about to pack it in, he hears a man clear his throat. Looking up, he begins to smile, as he leans back in his seat.
“Good to see you, Old Bob. How the hell are you?”
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June 4, 2015
The Mainstreamer. He is a man that I have stood beside – and against – numerous times over the last decade. He is one of the greatest wrestlers to lace up a pair of boots, and has taken me to the limit more times than I care to admit. He is a champion both in – and out – of the wrestling ring, and would be a champion that children all over the world could look up to.
If only it were still two-thousand and eight.
The Martin Graber that inhabits my UGWC is a mere shell of his former self. While once a proud individual, nowadays he prefers to make excuses, and find anyone and everyone to blame.
Usually the one he blames is ‘Vain’ Alan Wallace.
He blames me for it all…the turn, the beatdown, the sabbatical in the Midwest. Yet at some point, maybe he should look into the mirror.
He locked himself inside a closet of despair, and swallowed the key for far too many years. He chose to live a lie, as opposed to being true to himself. And still, he points fingers, all because he is too ashamed to admit that it was HE that caused ‘The Mainstreamer’ to disappear from the world which he knew. It was HE that caused all of the mental anguish that he went through. And it is still HE that cannot come to terms with the simple truth about himself.
And still…he blames me.
This is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
Laughable.
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“Don’t give me any of that friendly bullshit, Humble. We both know that I don’t give two fucks about you.”
Vain chuckles, as he opens up the very last book that is on the table, and signs the inner flap.
“Now why does it have to be that way, Bob? Can’t we just be friends? You know you want an autograph from ‘Mr. Ego’.”
Vain tosses the book at Ooley, who catches it strictly out of reflex.
“The fuck I do, Humble. If it were up to me, your arrogant ass would be out of this business for good. What the fuck is this, anyway?”
“It’s a copy of the journal that I have been keeping, ever since embarrassing your resident boogeyman at Kobayashi Maru, Ooley. I figured you would want a piece of history, since eventually it will go into the UGWC Hall of Fame.”
Ooley’s face goes crimson, as he turns and throws the journal across the arena.
“You egotistical fuck, I hope to God you get what’s coming to you. I don’t care who it ends up being, but I hope they…”
He stops in mid-sentence. With a confused look on his face, he looks back down at Vain.
“Do you mean to tell me that you kept multiple copies of that piece of shit journal that you’ve been writing in for the last month?”
“Twenty-five hundred, to be precise, Old Bob.”
“Why in the blue hell would you write down the same exact thing, in that many copies??? Jesus Christ, Humble…your ego really does know no bounds!”
“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Ooley. Vain didn’t write in each of them. Vain wrote in his own personal copy. That version will go into Vain’s very own personal Hall of Fame, within my spacious estate down in Miami. The rest were written by my harem.”
“You had your whores write them for you? Jesus Christ…”
“I am just a mere mortal, Bob. I can only work and fuck so much. And their appetites are insatiable. So I taught them to forge my handwriting, that way they would have something to do in their off time.”
The vein in Ooley’s forehead reappears. Imagine that.
“You arrogant schmuck…I don’t care about any of the three, but whoever faces you on Monday…I hope they kick the ever-loving shit out of you. I’ll even let the house winner borrow Louis if he wants to. As long as you get yours, I’ll be happy.”
“You should worry less about me, and more about the possibility that you will be the one standing across from Zane Scott on Monday. And if that does happen, it won’t be my wrestling career that will be cut short.”
“As for my match, I give all the credit in the world to all three of them on the careers that they’ve had to this point. All three men have become household names in this industry. But do any of them deserve to be the next UGWC World Champion?”
“A man that is the biggest manipulator in the industry…striving to prove that he is as trustworthy as they come, and yet he is directly responsible for more than one death in this company, and he’s helped drive more than one person to the brink of madness…ironically enough, one was a woman that he viewed as a little sister…and the other a man that was supposedly his brother.”
“A man that is as vindictive in the wrestling world, as he is in the business world…and yet he cast his family aside like a week-old meatloaf, all while pointing fingers at the supposed culprit as he rambled on about how much he loves those close to him.”
“A man who, in a nutshell, is a self-deprecating gay basher…so ashamed of his own personal choices, that he would rather hide behind masks – both literal and figurative – instead of owning who he is, and embracing it.”
“And you view any of those three as a better option for champion than me?”
“You’re as ignorant as the rest of the idiots that make their living in this industry.”
“I might be an asshole…I might be a manipulator…but the one thing that you can’t question is my love of this business. My yearning to be the very best that you sons-of-bitches have to exploit.”
“With me, you don’t have to worry about any extravagant plots to lure out clinically insane psychopaths…resulting in the torture and/or deaths of multiple people that you employ…”
“With me, you don’t have to worry about domestic issues that lead to the cheese sliding off my cracker…resulting in your World Title belt taking up residence in a back alley in the city of Chicago…”
“And with me, you don’t have to worry about self hatred, or me trying to be something that I’m not.”
“With Vain, you get Vain. All the good, and all the bad. And while you absolutely detest all the bad that you see in me…you absolutely love all of the money that I am making for this company. I have the talent, and the balls, to be who I am…twenty-four-seven. And you’re making money hand-over-fist because of it.”
“Those other three? They aren’t good enough inside of the ring to be worthy enough to carry my title…and they sure as hell aren’t good enough outside of the ring, either.”
Vain rises from his seat, and walks over to where a seething Robert Ooley stands. Going nose-to-nose with him, he speaks one last time.
“The World Champion will see you after ‘In Your Hands’, Ooley. And there isn’t a damn thing that you can do about it.”
With that, Vain walks away, leaving Ooley to stand there…wallowing in his own misery.
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June 5, 2015
It would be asinine to believe that regardless of opponent, this match will be a cakewalk. All three have proven time and time again that they are some of the best wrestlers to ever lace up a pair of boots.
The problem is…I am THE best to ever lace up a pair of wrestling boots.
All three have attempted to make a mockery of ‘Vain’ Alan Wallace since I first appeared at WrestleStock 2013. Did they think that I would forget?
Somers treated me like a second-class citizen while he and the Ernie to his Bert were running a second-tier media ‘conglomerate’. Vain wasn’t important enough to gain entry into their after-school club. Somers felt that I was past my prime…useless in today’s world of professional wrestling.
Ironic, considering I am the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World, and he has resorted to riding bitch on a motorcycle…for a club that he will never really fit into.
Dirge said all the right things when convincing me that ‘The Puppet Masters’ were the next big thing in this industry. I was blinded by the false statements and empty promises. All he wanted Vain to be was a glorified bodyguard for Donovan Hastings.
That worked out well for you, Robert…considering I hold the title that everyone in this company is itching to strap around their waist. And you’ve lost everything that is important to you.
Graber had a great time fighting under a mask, watching me from afar, as he planned ‘A Night of Vanity’. Congratulations Mr. Graber, you pulled the wool over ‘The Vain One’s’ eyes. That doesn’t happen very often, so I will commend you on the time and effort that you put into that ruse.
The problem for you is, you blew your wad on that one night…while I’m only just beginning to now peak.
Small victories, Mr. Graber. You can wallow in the fact that ‘A Night of Vanity’ - the greatest night of your career – is also the night that Vain realized he needed to completely focus on the goals that he had set for himself. It’s because of YOU, Mr. Graber, that I am the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World.
I guess it’s your time to say ‘You’re Welcome’.
‘In Your Hands’…one of the most exciting events of the year. And there are three men in line for a chance at my title. All three were considered great at one time or another, but on Monday, for one of them at least, I will show them why their time has passed…and why the future will be ‘The Epitome of Vanity’.
I advised him to arrive mid-week, to ensure that he would be able to get the proper amount of rest, in order to be at one-hundred percent for his World Title Match on Monday. As usual, he doesn’t feel the need to listen.
Surprise, surprise.
Each of the last three days I’ve stood here within Cumbica Airport, and each of the last three days, it’s been a waste of my time. So to say that my trepidation about today was exceedingly great would be a gross understatement. Even when I saw ‘Vain Force One’ touchdown, I expected it to be a great ruse…one more joke that Alan Wallace could play on Simon Wellington.
Of course the greatest joke of all is that I allowed it to happen in the first place.
Alas, I stood by as he debarked his private jet…and I watched as he handed out his business card to each and every Brazilian female that he came into contact with. Of course I would be remiss if I didn’t say, after seeing them, I don’t blame him in the slightest.
His customary smirk was plastered on his face as he strolled up to me. He attempted to speak, but I simply held up my hand, shook my head side-to-side, and then pointed down the corridor towards the exit.
The time for him and I to have a heart-to-heart was coming, but that time was not now.
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June 1, 2015
The entire world watched with bated breath, awaiting the announcement of who the final elimination would be. How ironic, that the elimination that brought us down to three, is the same individual that inspired ‘Yours Truly’ to begin jotting down his thoughts in the first place.
‘The Embodiment of Fear’…reduced to runner-up status, yet again. Pity.
With Deimos falling short, I now know that my next opponent will be one of three men…each of which I am all too familiar with.
They are three men that would love nothing more than to knock me off of my proverbial pedestal, and ascend to the throne they feel they are destined to perch upon.
They are three men whose detest of ‘Mr. Ego’ is well-known, as it eats away at them more and more, with each passing day.
They are three men…whose symbolic masks are much more complex than the one that I purchased to celebrate my impending victory at Kobayashi Maru.
Maybe it is time to begin stripping away the layers…
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The two men walk into the lobby of the L’Hotel Porto Bay Sao Paulo. Without speaking, Simon makes a beeline towards the elevator. Vain strolls over to where his ‘Syndicate’ stablemates are seated.
Killian: “He looks bloody well a pisser, Alan. What in the hell did you do now?”
“You know Simon…always making a mountain out of a molehill. This time around it was something about my not paying attention to him, and how I don’t listen to the advice that he willingly gives me.”
Zane: “That’s almost a weekly occurrence though, Vain. Did he throw in anything new this time?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. I wasn’t listening.”
Killian: “He’s slightly wankerish anyway, old chap. I wouldn’t pay it any mind.”
“He means well, I suppose. Bah, he’ll be fine. So have we begun preparing the celebration yet?”
Zane: “The last time we truly celebrated, Killian bagged a Princess. Not sure there are Princesses in this shithole.”
Killian: “Of course there are, lad. They’re just called porn stars here.”
“Oh, we definitely have to get a few of those. But don’t be a fool, Killian. Wrap your tool.”
Zane: “Yeah, because these broads are dirty.”
“Is Miss Morgan making it down, K?”
Killian: “She damn well better. She is who I plan to celebrate my victory with.”
Zane: “Still think you have a shot, eh Killian?”
Killian: “More than a mere shot, my boy. She won’t be able to withstand the English charm much longer.”
“In a few short days, we’re going to have yet another chance to shut the mouths of our detractors. Killian will retain his Chaos Title…I will retain my World Title…and Zane gets to bring down the entire ‘establishment’, by taking out a piece of the Consortium. And the mere fact that Miss Morgan is finally out of that hellhole house might just be the biggest victory of all.”
Zane: “So what you’re saying is…we’re going to need a lot of whores.”
Killian: “Yes he is, lad. Yes he is.”
Vain rises from the table, and throws down a hundred for the drink that he had.
“Well boys, I need to get to the arena. Autograph session in an hour.”
Without awaiting a reply, he turns and heads back out the door.
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June 2, 2015
Jet Somers. The man affectionately known as Opie amongst the legions of wrestling fans worldwide has been a staple within this company for many years. He has literally seen and done it all in this profession, and on the surface, it would seem that he would be primed to unseat ‘The Money Maker’, and begin yet another reign as the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World. And he would make a great champion.
That is what I would be saying, had I kept my eyes closed for the better part of the last few years.
Jet Somers is engulfed in guilt, and the very things that weigh on him…were – either partially or completely - of his own doing. Imagine that…the bastion of all that is true and just…playing a hand in some of the most telling stories of the last few years.
He stood by and allowed the love of his life to be butchered at the hands of a psychopath. He allowed the sister, whose family took him in when he was a child, to be kidnapped and tortured by a man who should have been locked in a padded cell decades ago. His need for vengeance pushed a young, naive rookie to the brink of madness. And his arrogance allowed PMN to be yanked out from under him.
This is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
I shudder at the mere thought.
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“You didn’t get everything out of your system on the way to the hotel?”
Vain has a wide grin on his face, as Simon Wellington slowly makes his way towards him on his rascal.
“Do you really need to ride that thing everywhere you go?”
“Don’t you own a segway that you use to traverse the grounds of your estate in Miami?”
“Point taken, Mr. Wellington.”
“I just wanted to reiterate how important it is that you were listening to what I was telling you, Alan. You do realize the importance of retaining your title, and continuing to build your legacy, right?
“Of course I do, Simon.”
“I’m not so sure that you do, Mr. Wallace. Whoever your opponent shall be, they hold all the cards in this matchup. Each of them know the opponent that they must prepare for. You aren’t afforded that luxury, Alan. And while you gallivant around planning dates and parties, those three men are preparing to embarrass you in front of the world. Do you not realize that?”
The smile disappears from Vain’s lips.
“I know exactly what is staring me in the face, Wellington. Just like I knew what was staring me in the face when I successfully defended this title against Deimos; just like I knew what was staring me in the face when I won this title from vonKnorre. You think taking someone’s best shot is something new to me…something I’ve just had to contend with, since winning the UGWC World Title? Please…I’ve been dealing with that my entire career, simply because of who I am.”
This time it is Simon that attempts to speak, but Vain cuts him off.
“Just like I have proven time and time again over the course of my career, it doesn’t matter who they put in front of me. Whether it’s Jet, Robert, or Martin…my opponent is irrelevant, because my greatest opponent is myself.”
“Strive to out-do myself from my last match…”
“Strive to continue getting better for my next match…”
“Strive to be the best night in, and night out, to be the highlight of everyone’s night.”
“No opponent will ever measure up to what I put upon myself, simply because they aren’t good enough to push me like I push myself.”
“And deep down…they all know it.”
Vain turns and makes a beeline towards his signing table, leaving Simon Wellington seated on his rascal…grinning from ear to ear.
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June 3, 2015
Dirge. He is a man whose reputation has preceded him ever since he stepped foot into a wrestling ring. He has the size, the strength, and the attitude to completely dominate anyone and everyone that is put in front of him. On paper, he is a man that is perfectly capable of carrying the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship for as long as he so chooses.
The problem is…he isn’t Dirge. Not anymore.
His life is in shambles, and he lives on the street. That is the life that he chose over his own family. He would rather eat out of dumpsters, than have dinner with his wife and children.
A mind truly is a terrible thing to waste.
Of course maybe I should have seen it coming. Honestly, only a man that has lost his grip on reality would choose to back Donovan Hastings over ‘Vanity at its Finest’. Sadly, that is exactly what Dirge did. And yet he wonders why Vain took the path that he did.
Even if you add all the personalities together…this is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
Preposterous.
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The line wraps around the entire arena. Fans as far as the eye can see, diligently waiting for an autograph from their favorite UGWC entertainment professional.
Good thing that the company scheduled Vain’s autograph session separately from all of the others. They wouldn’t want anyone’s panties getting in a bunch, while their lines sit empty. Bits of one-sided conversations are heard, as Vain jots down his John Hancock, and then motions for the next in line to step forward.
“Hola, sexy. Vain’s number is on the back flap…”
“What’s up, little man? Good to meet your hero, isn’t it…”
“Aren’t you a little old to be standing here in line? And quit scratching yourself…there are women and children present…”
“Glad to see that you’re a Vain fan, Spider. I admire your work as well…”
“Of course I will sign your breasts. Vain is nothing, if not a giver…”
Every thirty minutes or so, a member of Vain’s harem bring out even more stacks of books, and place on the table. Vain continues signing autographs for what feels like an eternity.
As the line finally dwindles, and Vain is about to pack it in, he hears a man clear his throat. Looking up, he begins to smile, as he leans back in his seat.
“Good to see you, Old Bob. How the hell are you?”
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June 4, 2015
The Mainstreamer. He is a man that I have stood beside – and against – numerous times over the last decade. He is one of the greatest wrestlers to lace up a pair of boots, and has taken me to the limit more times than I care to admit. He is a champion both in – and out – of the wrestling ring, and would be a champion that children all over the world could look up to.
If only it were still two-thousand and eight.
The Martin Graber that inhabits my UGWC is a mere shell of his former self. While once a proud individual, nowadays he prefers to make excuses, and find anyone and everyone to blame.
Usually the one he blames is ‘Vain’ Alan Wallace.
He blames me for it all…the turn, the beatdown, the sabbatical in the Midwest. Yet at some point, maybe he should look into the mirror.
He locked himself inside a closet of despair, and swallowed the key for far too many years. He chose to live a lie, as opposed to being true to himself. And still, he points fingers, all because he is too ashamed to admit that it was HE that caused ‘The Mainstreamer’ to disappear from the world which he knew. It was HE that caused all of the mental anguish that he went through. And it is still HE that cannot come to terms with the simple truth about himself.
And still…he blames me.
This is a man that deserves to be the next UGWC World Champion?
Laughable.
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“Don’t give me any of that friendly bullshit, Humble. We both know that I don’t give two fucks about you.”
Vain chuckles, as he opens up the very last book that is on the table, and signs the inner flap.
“Now why does it have to be that way, Bob? Can’t we just be friends? You know you want an autograph from ‘Mr. Ego’.”
Vain tosses the book at Ooley, who catches it strictly out of reflex.
“The fuck I do, Humble. If it were up to me, your arrogant ass would be out of this business for good. What the fuck is this, anyway?”
“It’s a copy of the journal that I have been keeping, ever since embarrassing your resident boogeyman at Kobayashi Maru, Ooley. I figured you would want a piece of history, since eventually it will go into the UGWC Hall of Fame.”
Ooley’s face goes crimson, as he turns and throws the journal across the arena.
“You egotistical fuck, I hope to God you get what’s coming to you. I don’t care who it ends up being, but I hope they…”
He stops in mid-sentence. With a confused look on his face, he looks back down at Vain.
“Do you mean to tell me that you kept multiple copies of that piece of shit journal that you’ve been writing in for the last month?”
“Twenty-five hundred, to be precise, Old Bob.”
“Why in the blue hell would you write down the same exact thing, in that many copies??? Jesus Christ, Humble…your ego really does know no bounds!”
“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Ooley. Vain didn’t write in each of them. Vain wrote in his own personal copy. That version will go into Vain’s very own personal Hall of Fame, within my spacious estate down in Miami. The rest were written by my harem.”
“You had your whores write them for you? Jesus Christ…”
“I am just a mere mortal, Bob. I can only work and fuck so much. And their appetites are insatiable. So I taught them to forge my handwriting, that way they would have something to do in their off time.”
The vein in Ooley’s forehead reappears. Imagine that.
“You arrogant schmuck…I don’t care about any of the three, but whoever faces you on Monday…I hope they kick the ever-loving shit out of you. I’ll even let the house winner borrow Louis if he wants to. As long as you get yours, I’ll be happy.”
“You should worry less about me, and more about the possibility that you will be the one standing across from Zane Scott on Monday. And if that does happen, it won’t be my wrestling career that will be cut short.”
“As for my match, I give all the credit in the world to all three of them on the careers that they’ve had to this point. All three men have become household names in this industry. But do any of them deserve to be the next UGWC World Champion?”
“A man that is the biggest manipulator in the industry…striving to prove that he is as trustworthy as they come, and yet he is directly responsible for more than one death in this company, and he’s helped drive more than one person to the brink of madness…ironically enough, one was a woman that he viewed as a little sister…and the other a man that was supposedly his brother.”
“A man that is as vindictive in the wrestling world, as he is in the business world…and yet he cast his family aside like a week-old meatloaf, all while pointing fingers at the supposed culprit as he rambled on about how much he loves those close to him.”
“A man who, in a nutshell, is a self-deprecating gay basher…so ashamed of his own personal choices, that he would rather hide behind masks – both literal and figurative – instead of owning who he is, and embracing it.”
“And you view any of those three as a better option for champion than me?”
“You’re as ignorant as the rest of the idiots that make their living in this industry.”
“I might be an asshole…I might be a manipulator…but the one thing that you can’t question is my love of this business. My yearning to be the very best that you sons-of-bitches have to exploit.”
“With me, you don’t have to worry about any extravagant plots to lure out clinically insane psychopaths…resulting in the torture and/or deaths of multiple people that you employ…”
“With me, you don’t have to worry about domestic issues that lead to the cheese sliding off my cracker…resulting in your World Title belt taking up residence in a back alley in the city of Chicago…”
“And with me, you don’t have to worry about self hatred, or me trying to be something that I’m not.”
“With Vain, you get Vain. All the good, and all the bad. And while you absolutely detest all the bad that you see in me…you absolutely love all of the money that I am making for this company. I have the talent, and the balls, to be who I am…twenty-four-seven. And you’re making money hand-over-fist because of it.”
“Those other three? They aren’t good enough inside of the ring to be worthy enough to carry my title…and they sure as hell aren’t good enough outside of the ring, either.”
Vain rises from his seat, and walks over to where a seething Robert Ooley stands. Going nose-to-nose with him, he speaks one last time.
“The World Champion will see you after ‘In Your Hands’, Ooley. And there isn’t a damn thing that you can do about it.”
With that, Vain walks away, leaving Ooley to stand there…wallowing in his own misery.
-------------------------
June 5, 2015
It would be asinine to believe that regardless of opponent, this match will be a cakewalk. All three have proven time and time again that they are some of the best wrestlers to ever lace up a pair of boots.
The problem is…I am THE best to ever lace up a pair of wrestling boots.
All three have attempted to make a mockery of ‘Vain’ Alan Wallace since I first appeared at WrestleStock 2013. Did they think that I would forget?
Somers treated me like a second-class citizen while he and the Ernie to his Bert were running a second-tier media ‘conglomerate’. Vain wasn’t important enough to gain entry into their after-school club. Somers felt that I was past my prime…useless in today’s world of professional wrestling.
Ironic, considering I am the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World, and he has resorted to riding bitch on a motorcycle…for a club that he will never really fit into.
Dirge said all the right things when convincing me that ‘The Puppet Masters’ were the next big thing in this industry. I was blinded by the false statements and empty promises. All he wanted Vain to be was a glorified bodyguard for Donovan Hastings.
That worked out well for you, Robert…considering I hold the title that everyone in this company is itching to strap around their waist. And you’ve lost everything that is important to you.
Graber had a great time fighting under a mask, watching me from afar, as he planned ‘A Night of Vanity’. Congratulations Mr. Graber, you pulled the wool over ‘The Vain One’s’ eyes. That doesn’t happen very often, so I will commend you on the time and effort that you put into that ruse.
The problem for you is, you blew your wad on that one night…while I’m only just beginning to now peak.
Small victories, Mr. Graber. You can wallow in the fact that ‘A Night of Vanity’ - the greatest night of your career – is also the night that Vain realized he needed to completely focus on the goals that he had set for himself. It’s because of YOU, Mr. Graber, that I am the UGWC Heavyweight Champion of the World.
I guess it’s your time to say ‘You’re Welcome’.
‘In Your Hands’…one of the most exciting events of the year. And there are three men in line for a chance at my title. All three were considered great at one time or another, but on Monday, for one of them at least, I will show them why their time has passed…and why the future will be ‘The Epitome of Vanity’.