"Back in Hell"

[Chris Q]

"Back in Hell"

The bright, blinding light of the sun is the first thing Chris sees when he opens his eyes. He squints. Q looks around, trying to figure out where he is. He doesn’t recognize the room or the couch that he was sleeping on. Chris grabs his forehead in pain, the hangover starting immediately. Q gets up and stumbles over to the window, turning the blinds to block out the sun. The window is still open, but there is no breeze. Everything feels dry. A familiar nauseous feeling overwhelms Chris as he searches desperately for a toilet.

Chris hurries down a hallway and opens the first door on the left. It’s not a bathroom, but a bedroom where several people are passed out on a bed. Chris doesn’t recognize anyone sleeping in the bed, but he’s more focused on the sick feeling in his stomach at the moment. He continues down the hallway towards another door at the end of the hall. One of the girls sleeping in the bedroom wakes up as Chris staggers past. She gets up from the bed and follows Q down the hallway.

Finally reaching the door, Chris pushes it open and finds the toilet. He quickly lifts up the seat and immediately vomits into the bowl. He pukes a couple times before blindly reaching for a piece of toilet paper. Chris rips off a sheet and wipes his lips and beard. He flushes the toilet and watches as the bloody puke swirls down.

“Are you alright? That doesn’t look good.”

Chris turns to see the girl standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Q tries to remember her face, but he can’t recall who she is. He turns away and barks in her direction.

“I’m fine. Must have raged too hard last night…”

“What? You don’t remember? You were on another planet last night. I’ve never seen anyone drink so much.”

“Now you have. It was my first time in New Mexico and I wanted to get wild.”

“Well, you certainly did that. Hey, I saw a lot of blood in there. Maybe you should go get that checked out…”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve puked up blood, sweetheart. Look, thanks for the concern, but I’m not in the mood for it this morning. Incase you haven’t noticed.”

“Fine. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”

She turns around to leave, pulling the door closed behind her. Before the door can close completely, Chris speaks to her again.

“Wait.”

She opens the door and steps back into the doorway.

“Before you go, can you fill me in on a few details from last night?”

“I guess. What do you want to know? I’m a little hazy myself…”

“Whose place is this?”

“I’m not exactly sure. After the group left the bar last night, we went to a party across the street. After that, a couple of us came over here to sleep it off.”

“We went to a party after the bar?”

“Jeez, you must have been gone. Yeah, a bunch of us left the bar early and drove to the party.”

“I remember going to the bar and meeting a shit load of people. Everything after that is a blur.”

“You almost got into a fight at the bar, but we invited you to come with us and you got into the van.”

Chris tries to jog his memory, but he is unable to remember anything. Q closes his eyes, the headache getting worse. He sits up and looks into the toilet again.

“Are you going to throw up again?”

“I might. Is there any whisky left?”

“Maybe. I can look around. Why?”

“Because that’s the only thing that’s going to make me feel better this morning.”

“I think they call that alcoholism…”

Chris manages to smile after hearing that.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Do you really want me to look for the whisky?”

“No, don’t worry about it. I do need a ride back to the bar though. I need to get back to my motel room.”

The girl giggles at what Chris just said.

“I don’t think I can help you with that. We’re a long way from that bar, little boy.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I thought you said we drove here last night?”

“We did. But we were driving for hours. It took us forever to get to the party.”

“How far away are we?”

“I’m as clueless as you are about that one. I know we are far away though. We actually left New Mexico and crossed state lines.”

Q’s eyes open up as wide as they possibly can and sweat starts to appear on his forehead.

“Crossed state lines? What are you saying? Where are we right now?”

“Oh yeah, you probably don’t remember. We’re in Texas.”

Chris closes his eyes. The sickness is now too much for him to handle. He kicks the bathroom door closed before he starts vomiting into the toilet again.

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Dearborn DVD Taping - 10/12/13
Chris Q vs. Madman Szalinski

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I’m getting so tired of the constant bullshit that gets thrown my way. I knew I’d have to endure a certain amount of it after I won the FGA Heavyweight Championship, but it’s worse than I ever imagined. From Dom Harter and The Murder trying to convince everyone that I was afraid of them to Chris Bond trying to convince me that my lifestyle was going to be my downfall. Now Sean Sands is trying to take the top prize by shoveling some shit about me “knowing” that I can’t beat him in the ring. It doesn’t even make sense anymore. Why would I be afraid of Sean Sands? Why would there be any doubt in my mind about my ability to destroy him? I have never once backed down from a fight in my life. This is just stupid, idiotic, bullshit that I’m tired of listening to.

If Sean really believes that me pissing on his stuff or wrecking his trophy is a sign of weakness, then he’s even more of a retard than I thought. That sort of twisted logic is exactly the reason why Sands doesn’t belong in the ring with me. Not only is he physically inferior, but I feel like I’m battling wits with a fucking child. The way he talks and the shit that comes out of his mouth, he doesn’t come across as an intelligent person at all. And he doesn’t need to be a genius. Sean just needs to understand the reality of our situation and I don’t think he’s anywhere close.

Sands is swinging at air, missing me completely. Sean is just throwing shit against the wall, trying to see what will stick and none of it is working. He thinks that his story is similar to mine and he thinks that he’s following in my path, but that’s nothing but more lies. Did he explode onto the scene in FGA and immediately start destroying opponents? No. Did he start his career here undefeated and put together the most impressive winning streak that this company has ever seen? No. Did he slowly climb the ranks, match by match, beating everyone that was placed in front of him to earn a shot at the FGA Heavyweight Championship? No. Sean Sands didn’t do any of those things. Like I’ve been saying this entire time, Sean Sands is a man who got lucky one night and won a tournament involving mediocre talent. He is a man that’s so caught up in his own momentum, that he’s making fatal mistakes when talking to me. This isn’t a story that’s going to end well for Sean. The ending to this story is going be violent, brutal, and disappointing for everyone in his corner.

But Sean has a couple weeks before he faces reality, so I’ll let him continue living in his fantasy world for the time being.

This weekend I step into the ring with another name I hardly recognize, but I’m not planning on phoning it in. I never do. No, this weekend I plan on giving Madman Szalinski a proper introduction to the deep end of the FGA pool. I have asked around about Madman and everyone else seems to be just as confused as I am. Who are you trying to be, Szalinski? Are you the serious athlete working out in the gym all the time? Are you the party boy getting stoned and acting like an idiot or are you someone full of rage that needs drugs to calm down? One second you’re cracking jokes, pretending to be a comedian and the next second you’re trying to act like a serious competitor. Which is it, Madman? None of it is very consistent or convincing. You’re nothing but a guy with a weak character that wants to appeal to everyone. Stop trying so hard, unless this multiple personality gimmick is what you’re going for. If that’s the case, give me a fucking break.

And don’t even start with the self-deprecating pity party shit. “Even I don’t think I’ll win this match....” Shut the fuck up, Madman. Act like a fucking man and come into this match believing that you belong. Even if you don’t belong in the ring with me, don’t roll over like a little bitch. Then you go on to say that me winning this match won’t mean anything, because that’s what everyone expects to happen. That’s the most pathetic shit I’ve heard since I started here. I actually feel like I’m wasting my time by kicking your ass, because you’re not even in this fight.

There’s something else you need to learn now that you’re competing in Frontier Grappling Arts. Don’t even bother bringing up your GFC titles here, because they don’t mean a goddamn thing. I don’t care about any other titles that you’ve won in any other organization, because it’s all garbage to me. The only title and the only gold that matters at all in this business is the title I currently have over my shoulder. The FGA Heavyweight Championship isn’t just the top prize in our company, but a fucking crown in our industry. There’s a reason I didn’t compete or defend the title at the FGA vs. Frontier show, because there isn’t a person in that company that deserves a shot at my title. Go ask Chandler Scott, he’ll tell you all about the Chris Q party.

But even though you expect to lose this match, you still try to convince people that you are capable of winning. See, this is when I start getting annoyed of you. First you say that me beating you won’t change anything, because that’s the script. Then you go on to list your accolades and tell stories about overcoming bigger odds. But beating you still won’t do anything for my career? Again, Madman, make up your mind. Which is it? Are you a relevant name in this business or not? Winning is winning. I’ve beat bigger names than you and I’ve beat bigger unknowns than you. No single victory means more than any other in my eyes. Every match and every victory is important in the legacy of Chris Q. I didn’t make my name by winning a single match. I earned my spot because of my body of work and you’re name is soon to be on that list, Szalinski.

Don’t recycle the same bullshit I had to hear from Sean Sands, I thought you were better than that. You say that you’ve done your research and you know what you’re getting into, than why the fuck would you ever believe that I’m afraid of Sean Sands? That just proves to me that you have no idea what Chris Q is all about. You and Sean seem to think that I’m worried about my days as FGA Champion being numbered. Honestly, the thought hasn’t even crossed my mind, because it’s just not realistic. The world doesn’t spin, the wind doesn’t blow, and this company doesn’t work without Chris Q as the champion. You can call me a dick. You can call me a douchebag, but that shit doesn’t win matches. My confidence hasn’t left me for a second, moron. If anything, it’s at an all-time high.

Because I’m starting to realize that nobody is going to beat me for the title. You can suck Sean’s dick all you want, Madman, but he’s never going to take the belt from me. The sooner that you and everyone else realize this, the better off you’ll be. And after I get done ripping Sean Sands apart at Respect is Earned, we can stop playing make believe. If Sean wants to take notes on this match between you and I, he can feel free. He can write down everything NOT to do when getting into a fight with Chris Q, because you’re off to the perfect start. And even if Sean missed it the first time around, you repeated yourself plenty of times for him to catch it.

How many times do you have to say the same thing, Madmen? We get it. You don’t care about winning or losing. The only way this match will mean anything is if you upset me and win. If I beat you it won’t mean anything. You’re a veteran of this game. I’m an asshole. I’m not unbeatable. You have all the skills to beat me, except you don’t think you will because nobody else does. Jesus Christ, you really like talking in circles, don’t you? Stop rambling and make a fucking point. Otherwise, just shut your mouth and prove yourself in the ring here. Don’t just say stupid, illogical shit like everyone else. Chris Q is not afraid of a fight or taking a beating. I try to make every match an ugly brawl. The bullshit about me not wanting another match with you after this is just a blatant lie. I don’t understand why every opponent that I get into the ring with feels the need to deceive the fans and themselves. You’re just making stuff up about me to build yourself up. Call me all the names you want, Szalinski, but at least I’m not a liar. Everything that I say, every point that I make, can be backed up by facts or the FGA video library.

I think I’m starting to realize why I’ve been so dominant in this company. Just about every opponent I’ve faced during my time here has refused to be honest with me, the fans, or themselves. My opponents constantly feel the need to make shit up about me in order to make me look bad. This is not a good strategy. I don’t see what anyone is trying to achieve by doing this. Nobody wins mind games against me. Nobody forces me to make mistakes in the ring. And for the final fucking time, I do not fear any man in this business. Saying that or thinking that will only hurt you in the end. If my opponents spent less time lying to themselves and actually took an honest approach against me, maybe I wouldn’t be where I am right now. But no, everyone from Sean Sands to Dom Harter has lied about me and some non-existent fear they think they see. It’s nothing but a waste of time for everyone involved.

Madman Szalinski, you made the same mistake. You had to lie and make shit up in order to build your confidence for this match. That’s fine, but the results have been shown time and time again. I think you’re the one that should be taking notes, Madman. Because even though you think you have all this experience and have what it takes to beat me, you have no idea what it’s like competing against the Big Bad. Who I am, what I am, and what I’m capable of is like nothing you’ve experienced before, Szalinski. All of the time you spent competing all over the world for various promotions isn’t going to mean anything in this match. This isn’t bravado. This isn’t me making shit about you. I’m just giving you the reality of the situation, because it is the truth. You have never been in the ring with anyone like Chris Q before. If you think differently, you’re just lying to yourself again.

So let’s just give the bullshit a rest, Madman. Don’t pretend like you know me or my abilities. Drop the act about being indifferent to winning or losing this match and just fucking fight me. Just because everyone thinks you’re going to lose doesn’t mean that I’m going to wrestle that way. I come into every single match with the same mind set. This is nothing more or less than an opportunity to make a statement. Just like always, I come straight at my opponents and try to end their consciousness. I have my strengths and I know you have strengths of your own. I’m not going to lie about anything or try to deceive anyone about it, because I don’t need to. I’m not going to ramble on without making a point, trying to build my confidence. I’m just going to show up, do what I always do, and prove that I am the very best in this business right now.

And if that truth ends up being too much for Szalinski, he can just shrug it off, because he knew all along how this was going to end. Even though he has all the experience and currently holds titles in other organizations, he’s still the ultimate underdog. Then if he manages to pull off a miracle and defeat me, he can change his story and say he knew it all along. But if Chris Q comes in, beats your ass and earns another victory, then you can save face by saying we were just following the script, right Szalinski? Go sell that weak shit somewhere else.

Fucking loser.