Bury the Blade

The Detective's vision shifted from tunnel to blurry back and fourth as he read the final diary of Casanova English. The one which confirmed he was the son of a serial killer -- and The Detective was glued to it like a good novel.

The Detective knew what Casanova saw, knew how what his father had done must have turned his stomach. Thirteen victims, his mother lucky enough to be the one who escaped the full force of his madness. The Detective would probably want him dead too, but he was evolved, knew that’s not how justice should be dealt.

He sipped his whiskey. He lit his cigar.

He flipped to one of the the last pages. It read “The Plan”. The Detective licked his finger and flipped the page… the last ten gone… ripped out.

“Fuck. That bitch.”

It’s like life is on repeat. That who cliche about how insanity is doing the same fucking thing over and over and over again expecting some kind of other result. If that is the case John Blade needs to be institutionalized.

I know the theory running through his mind -- divide and conquer. Make sure Bash Daddy can’t boot his skull open and he should be able to take care of me pretty quick and easy… but I’ve already won. I live rent fucking free in John’s head and this week once and for all I bury the Blade.

“You know I can rip the door off the cage if I need to,” Bash Daddy said.

I smirked and shook my head. I have to do this one on my own -- I have to put John Blade down and move on to bigger and better things. I’m tired of the weak booking in this company. I have a championship around my waist which is supposed to represent rising stars and here Blade comes for another crack after I have already proved myself. I’m starting to think there are no more rising stars on this brand. Maybe I’ll have to do a tour of the new development.

“I got Blade. I’ve been knocking around in his skull figuratively and literally over the last month and at Proving Ground I’ll finally get rid of him.”

My hands were getting sweaty, my lips thirsty for a cigarette.

“Voodoo, can you loosen the ropes a little.”

She had me shirtless and tied to a foldout chair -- felt like some bondage shit, but she told me she had been working on this ritual.

“I’m busy,” she said from the other room. I could hear metal on metal -- sharpening.

Bash walked over and loosened the ropes for me a little.

“Thanks,” I said. “What do you think she has thought up?”

“It’s always something further out than I consider to be honest with you, but she said it should help you manifest winning the X-Factor Championship.”

“Hmm, just what I need. I guess another belt for my opposite shoulder would help work out the sciatica,” I sigh. “Light me a cigarette and turn the camera on.”

Bash pulls a cigarette from the pack in my bag and places it between my lips bringing a lighter up to ignite it. I take a few sharp drags and blow out a puff of smoke as he drops my championship on my lap gently.

Bash flicks on the camera.

“Here we go again. I didn’t think pro wrestling had repeat episodes but here I am -- once again matched up with John Blade in what will surely be the greatest and most lopsided feud of the poor muscle dummy’s entire career. Look I’ll stop behind hard on the bookers. I get it, it is a hard gig when you don’t want me dropping the value of your top superstars. You have to protect them from injury, from physiological damage and well… smart move putting Blade back in there, he is damaged goods.”

“I get it, the plan is to get the strap off of me before I move on to big and better, but the truth is I am not ready to relinquish this championship. I said that the moment I got it a stranglehold will be put on this entire brand… and trust me when I say I won’t have to do it single handedly. I’ve got more friends than anyone in the back than anyone knows. The idea is that I won’t be able to hold my own against Blade inside a cage. He will pick me up over his head and toss me into the unforgiving walls over and over until I can’t fucking walk. The thing is you should know by now I am a cockroach, I will keep on coming and I will spread my filth across the company one way or another. Blade knows he is already beat, he knows the mediocre rap rhymes don’t hold up to my gold tongue. It’s why he would pimp his voice out one every radio station he could, it’s why he snatches the mic every chance he gets… whoring himself out for fame and trust me you aren’t doing it on my name. See I don’t pander to these fans or this company like you do Blade. There is a reason I don’t cut promos on Proving Ground. This company is lucky I step in the ring bi-weekly and showcase my greatness. This company couldn’t pay me enough for me to provide it true relevance with a live promo.”

I roll the cigarette in my lips and take another few puffs as the ashes fall onto the Warrior Raising Championship.

“I now have the opportunity to take my career heights it has never been and I have to be honest with you Blade I am starting to feel a little greedy. I am starting to feel like I can back up every word of rhetoric I speak. See I won the opportunity to challenge for the X-Factor Championship. Maybe, just maybe I decide to unify these two championships and rename them so they have some meaning and don’t sound like some reality show prize. When I win the X-Factor title I want Christina Aguilera herself to wrap it around my waist. Hell, when I introduce myself as the Warrior Rising Champion half the people I meet think I won the last season of American Ninja Warrior..”

“This week when we are locked inside a cage I will leave no doubt in anyone’s mind who the better man is. I will take that million dollar face and chiseled jaw line and grind it against the mesh so hard it’ll look like I preformed ancient plastic surgery. Blade this is more than just you and I going at it. This is about putting a rest to your breed, the ones before me who thought men who look like me can’t fucking do it -- but we learned to love the beatings -- and we learned to love dishing out brutality even more. So come out here with your puns, your beats and spin that vinyl -- you only have a few seconds before I pull it off the player, snap it in half and turn you into the first John Blade Pez dispenser.”

Voodoo walks toward me slowly. She has a blade in her hand, the top of it heated red.

“Be still,” she says as my throat goes dry. “We have to manifest you becoming a double champion, you becoming an X-Factor Champion.”

“My whole career I have been the opposite of ‘it’ I have been underestimated and looked down upon until I took what I wanted with brute force and now I can tell not a single person things this soap box will rise again to the point the masses hear me. I know you all think my time is up. I know I am a black sheep among my peers, but I will not be ignored and when John Blade gets a little color this week and loses too much blood he can stand I’ll write my manifesto right there in the ring in his blood -- my list of demands.”

“And they are simple… All of nothing.”

V pushes the hot blade int my chest and drags it down diagonal. The burning makes my spine cold -- my teeth feel like they're melting -- the tears in the bottom of my eyes dissolve. I glare at the camera as she crosses it and Bash zooms in on the 'x' -- a slight trail of smoke -- the smell of burned human flesh.

“Whether I like it or not, entry level title or world championship -- I know the truth. I am the one putting asses in seats and taking you along for the ride. X marks the spot.”