Something to wrestle with

[cooltubesource]

"Nope! Start again!"

Ugh. I canNOT beLIEVE what my beloved wife, the person I came back through the ABYSS for, was putting me through this torture. Making me say something NICE about the Magster?! Ugh! As freakin' IF! Just because I want to embarrass the harlot for making fun of how badass my arms look now by calling them jerk-off arms or whatever gave Kenzi NO RIGHT...NONE...to FORCE me to add this stipulation to my purchased Synergy card. Ugh.

Wives are the worst. 

Alright, I'll give it another try.



"Pretty sure that is the OPPOSITE of nice, Sar!"

Oh good Lord. There has never been an injustice greater than this in the history of injustices. What in the HELL would I want to say anything NICE about MAGGIE?! I loathe her! She loathes me! We have a good thing going! That whole "happy to have you in my life" bit is totes NOT for us. Grrrr. It's gonna be a LOOOOOOONG night unless I do this. Or at least pretend to. Fine. You want a poem? I'll give you a poem.



"SELENA!"

Damn, she's all serious now. She's scary when she gets this way. Her braids are pulled back so she kinda looks like the Predator in that movie that came out a couple of years ago, and her brows are all furrowed and she looked FIERCE. That was kinda how we got together in the first place, ya know. I realized that she had this ferocity inside her that was just begging to be let out, something you only saw when she was jumping to the defense of a friend, and if I could just find a way to unlock it, Kenzi Grey would be a force to be reckoned with. And holy SHIT was I right! Once we started bumping uglies, she won a championship in LAW, beat world champs, we had that killer run in the Candaian Empire, and now she's a legit 8-0 in the Coalition with three (3!) title wins. And NOW that fierce "gonna FUCK you up" look of hers is on me. 

"Hey, it was gonna rhyme!"

"I KNOW it was going to rhyme! That's the problem! Don't use that word!"

"I'll use that word if I want!"

"It's uncalled for! It was uncalled for the FIRST time you used it!"

"I USED it because she was BEING one!"

Normally, that glare of hers would get me all hot and bothered, but I know that trying to get some sexytimes on right this second would NOT go well.

Best case scenario: She would tell me no.

Worst case scenario: She tells me YES and I have trouble walking or sitting until Synergy because it would be one of THOSE sessions.

"Just write one of those dumb poems you wrote all day the other day!"

I glare at her. Those "dumb poems" were haiku and they were beautiful. I SUCK at writing poetry, which is probs why she chose it for the stip to this week's promotional material, but haiku were different. Three lines, five syllables in the first and third, seven in the second. Usually, they were about nature and shit, but you can get a LOT of emotion across with them. Hell, I did that the other day! I got Fatty all KINDS of triggered just by writing haiku about her all day Saturday to the point where she couldn't even THINK when it came to Monday. Okay...fine...haiku...



"Nope! Start over!"

Kenzi is such a taskmaster. This is terrible. Why is my life so hard?!



"You've already done that one! Write a NEW one!"

She's right, sort of. When I came back for the Melee, I filmed a video where I did mini promos on just about every member of the roster and explained why I was going to toss them over the top rope. I dropped a few truth bombs, like on Rydell and Mathis, but some of them weren't wholly combative. Of course, everyone knew that me plus a live mic plus Maggie as a subject would equate into something that probably could not be aired on the Coalition Network, so in a rare moment of restraint, I decided to just write her this haiku. 

But then I changed my mind and did a promo anyway. It was scathing, too. And not "scathing" the way Fatty thought HER promo about me was going into Chill #3, but actually scathing. Ya know I wonder what it's like to be Kem? I wonder what it's like to tell all your friends that you are going to make your opponent CRY, like actually CRY, because of the scathing promo you were dropping, and then when it airs, you here that "Whaaa whaaaaa whaaaaaaaaa" sound from a trombone or something because your "scathing" promo was a flaming turd of shitty logic and outright lies. 

Of course, I don't need to worry about THAT kind of nonsense with Maggie. Unlike Fatty, Maggie is a killer wrestler. Unlike Fatty, Maggie makes logical arguments. Unlike Fatty, Maggie it's a choke artist. Maggie has won as many titles as I have in nearly the exact same amount of time, has defeated top-tier talent, and has been the face of an entire brand of EWC, if only for a little while. Sure, she's fun to make fun of, but there is no denying her skills. And of course, there's her hair. FUCK, her hair is cool. How the FUCK does she get that shade of purple? AND WHY WON'T SHE TELL ME?! Damnit, what a BITCH! What CU-

"I SAID NOT TO USE THAT WORD!"

How did she know what I was thinking? Ugh. Wives ARE the worst. 

"Listen, I have another idea. How about this...?"

I bust out my phone and show her a picture.



"What in Tom Cruise's name is that?"

"Poetry!"

I can't help but show awe in my voice. What a GUN! Look at that thing!

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"I'll just send her a pic of that arm. That's TOTES poetry! And it shows her how BADLY I’m going to beat her in the arm wrestling contest!

She gives me a weird look. What's so hard to understand about th-

"THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR ARM!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Is that Maxine's arm?!"

Why does she have to be such a buzzkill? Ugh. I need a break.

"I need a cigarette!"

I ignore Judging McJudgington's scowl as I push my chair out and stand up. I limp a little as I made my way through the hotel room and to the balcony, and this limp annoys me. It was bad enough that Fatty sat on my face, but me giving a Shining Wizard to those ring steps was particularly stupid, and moving around the last couple of days has been annoying. Of course, its not like I had my nose busted open and my arm in a sling like Fatty did after Chill, so it was nothing to cry over. I also ignore Kenzi's disapproving sigh as I clip outside and shut the sliding glass door. Her and her "clarity" bullshit. Wives were THE worst. I bust out a Coffin Nail as fast as possible, light up, and take the slowest drag I can. I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of the smoke filling me, calming me. There is very little in this world that helps me calm and get to center like a cigarette, and as it was ABUNDANTLY CLEAR, sexytimes with Kenzi was NOT going to be available for the claming until this DUMB poem was written.

I lean against the wall and notice my shoes glint in the setting sun. I love shoes. Does Maggie love shoes? She's usually pretty damn fashionable, though less than me, obvs, but just about everyone was. This particular pair was the black stilettos that Eden bought me when she was in Europe, and that makes me smile around my cigarette. Kenzi didn't really understand why I loved shoes so much, though she appreciated the way heels made my butt look, but that was okay; after all, our lives were about sharing our individual experiences and opinions and making our union that much more special. Kenzi had taught me about things like poetry jams and club dancing, and I had shown her things like clothes and how to waltz. She didn't understand my relationship with Eden, though she probably didn't really understand my relationship with Ally Morrow, either; Eden and I see ourselves in the other, though a younger and older version, respectively, and her giving me shoes was a show of that shared affection. That affection why I sent her the letter calling my shot if I won the WrestleStock Cup, too. 

Does Maggie have affection for anyone? It's hard to tell. I mean, when she and I first ran into each other last year, she was elbow-deep in Sam Tolson, which is a thought so disgusting that I feel like vomiting up everything I have eaten all week. And then after getting cheated on...something we ALL saw coming a million miles away and I am pretty sure I called...she moved in on Lucy. Or did they NOT start going at it until their relationships broke down? It's hard to tell, if I'm honest. I mean, I fully understand and appreciate a well-crafted deception, but I can't tell how serious she and Lucy were about the timing of their sweet lovin'. And if you fast forward less than a year, we have them screaming and fighting in a way I could never even conceive doing with my Beloved. I mean, Kenzi and I fight all the time, but that's different; in the beginning, we NEVER fought, and that was as much what sent me to New York as being smothered. Fuck, I hate myself for that. New York was the DUMBEST thing I could have done. But it helped, once we were both done with all the ugly crying. She gets mad at me when I deserve it, unafraid to be angry and show me that my decisions matter to her, and she has gotten REALLY GOOD at dodging all the shoes I chuck at her head.

Has Maggie ever done something as dumb as my New York trip? Has she ever betrayed anyone, or hurt herself emotionally so bad that she needed to hide her face in shame? She does that whole "I was a victim" shit that Fatty likes to do, but of course that is kinda the end of comparisons with her. And her personal life seems like a total mess, though I try not to pay too much attention these days. Social media should be for fun, and not for determining championships or whatever other horseshit people think it’s for, and I respect that Mags took a step back the last few months.

Fuck, this cig tastes good. Nekkie might be a total weirdo, whom I still have ZERO clue why he wrestles when he just tends to spend all his time kidnapping, torturing, and murdering, or something, but he knows how to craft a cigarette. The burn is just right and the flavor is on point. Daddy would have loved them. I miss Daddy. I HATE having Ava around, of course, but there is only so much I can do about that. That whole...thing...at home is something I would rather not think about, and I still haven’t spoken to Kenzi about it; I keep distracting her with sex whenever the subject comes up. Because I DON’T want to think about it, I DON’T want to talk about it. I refused to believe that Ava married Daddy until I saw the paperwork with my own eyes, and now that I HAVE, this whole allowance thing is horseshit, and I can’t even TOUCH my trust fund for another 5 years. Ugh...to be 25...I’ll be an old lady!

Does Maggie have a daddy? I’ve never even thought to ask; after all, it’s hard to ask questions over tea when we’re busy pulling each other’s hair out. She looks like she could use a daddy. And a mumsie, too. I wonder if she still thinks Ava is my mumsie? I mean, discounting that whole math thing where Ava was, like, 8 or 9 when I was born, we don’t even LOOK alike. I bet Maggie sucks at math. Just like me. F that nonsense! She sure has pretty drawings though.

I once thought about getting a tattoo at Paper Street. The tattoo of Daddy’s mask on my left shoulder was done in L.A. during the infamous trip with Kenzi where I came up with our tag team name, but I have ideas for a few others. I’m sure I’ll never have as many as Kenzi, what with her multitude of little ones in artistic places on her body, but it sure would be hilarious to make Maggie’s staff give me one. Does she still run that place? I’m not even sure anymore. I stopped paying attention to most people’s lives after my accident. Very little of that stuff seems to matter anymore, not even Maggie’s.

I toss the butt to the cement balcony and crush it under my heel. And all I can think of is:




Kenzi is still scowling at me as I step back into our hotel and close the sliding glass door. Its called a hotel, but it’s really not. I mean, its not like all those hotels we sleep in during our trips across the country for wrestling shows, but something closer to an apartment. Decently high-end and meant to be lived in for months at a time, it takes care of our needs in the two or three days a week we have off. Living in Maine is out of the question, of course. After that whole “YOU IZ BANISHED” issue with Wifey and Step-Mumsie, we weren’t sure the next time we would be there. And since we lost the boat, THAT is out of the question. And F that Econo Lodge nonsense that we dealt with for what felt like FOREVER.

I wonder if Kenzi would be up for going back to our apartment? I know that its forever tainted by what Jacob did...and what he wrote on the walls...but its special. We fell in love while we lived there, after all. And while the two of us live VERY public lives, I would give just about everything to push it all away and let the two of us live quietly in that apartment. Let her make her movies. Let me explore this media company I have been working with. Let us be away from the world and just be us.

Well, with a baby or two, of course. I KNOW that drives my wife nuts...I KNOW that she HATES the idea of children...but things have changed. I don’t laugh at that old video we took on her iPhone of me tossing a baby doll into a fire anymore. Its not funny. Because I want one. I want two. I want babies that share her ethnicity so that they can be as close to OURS as possible. I want us to GROW our family, to GROW our love, and its the biggest fight we have, and the only one which is a true, real battle. I understand her position...that she doesn’t want to raise a kid on the road like what happened to her...but I was raised on the road, too. I traveled the world with Daddy and loved it.

My clock is ticking and I can’t stop it.

Good Lord, I hope I can get her to understand how important this is before it breaks me.

I wonder if Maggie wants kids? Another one of those questions I have never bothered to ask her while we tried to break each other’s noses. Does she want a family? Does she want to try to live and give in a way she didn’t have growing up? Did she want what I wanted, to live with a beautiful and understanding woman, and have children? Or perhaps a strong man to hold her at night and support her? I wonder...does she want out of life the same thing that I want?

“Well? Are you ready to talk about why you appreciate having Maggie in your life?”

I scowl at her and hang a sharp left. Not ready to talk about that, yet. Not ready to think too much about Maggie. Ugh...Magdelana Lockheart. Gross.

I find myself at our piano. It’s not the beautiful grand piano that we had in our apartment, but it is nice enough. I miss that piano. It was the first thing Kenzi and I bought when I moved to L.A. to be with her. Well, to take a shot at being with her, anyway. Its insane to know the gamble I took a year and a half ago.

My fingers find the keys and I play a few notes. I don’t play as much as I should, and I hate that I don’t make the time for it. I don’t play as well as I used to, not with the way my hands shake at times, but it is still something I love. I find myself falling into the notes for “If I Ever Leave this World Alive” and I smile wide. I taught Kenzi this song on that magical day when she first spent the day with me at the compound. Godfather taught it to me and-

I feel my smile fall and my heart seize. I miss Godmother. I still don’t understand what happened, still don’t understand how someone so young can go that fast, but it’s there. Has Maggie ever lost someone close to her? Again, I don’t know. Daddy died a couple of Easters ago, and then Godmother in December. Did Maggie have someone close to her like Zoe Chaos? All I have left of her is Lil’ Has.

My fingers find themselves playing “Danny Boy,” which Godfather played on his guitar at Godmother’s funeral. I once played this song and sang modified lyrics as part of a promotional video package for a big match. What was his name? Criss Something? Maybe that’s what I should do. Maybe I should just play Maggie a song, change the lyrics, and leave it at that. Or, if I REALLY want to go Full Fatty, I can just write Maggie a letter that includes song lyrics from a band and go “Here you go! Its just as good as coming up with my own original shit, right? Isn’t that funny?!”

What are you to me, Maggie? I once called you my Swing, a reference that no one would get. Of course, I didn’t MEAN for anyone to get it, but its still significant. Daddy’s greatest opponent was Auntie Stevie. They followed each other to the ends of the Earth in order to fight. Sometimes Daddy attacked Stevie, sometimes Stevie got the surprise on Daddy. And why? Because it was important to them. THEY were important to them.

I feel my fingers freeze.

That’s it.

I stand up from the piano and make my way back over to the table. Kenzi raises her eyebrow at me but I give her a dismissive wave. I understand. I “get” why Maggie is not just IN my life, but important TO my life.

And I love her for it.

I put pen to paper and explain why I appreciate Maggie Lockheart being in my life.

[angelicavaughn]

This was great, I really liked how she conveyed that begrudging kind of respect, like she hates her, but she also RECOGNIZES, nahmean? The poem at the end was a great way to finish it, too. You always bring a great blend of different styles that never feel forced, awkward, or thrown together for no reason.

[The Circle Television Network]

Everything Ang said. Always a good spin on things and the always adding layers to a character that is probably the most complex on the roster.

Of course I will always be a mark for a mention! I was actually in this one, so WOOT!