Father Forgive Me

[The Last Real Man]

Father Forgive Me

February 18th, 2016
Los Angeles, California

For I have sinned...

As I put a cigarette out in the ashtray, I realize God stopped answering my calls a long time ago. He’s got more important things to deal with. Starving countries and terrorists get all of his attention these days. Little does he know in his absence I’ve lost my way.

It’s sort of ironic though, how I pick at him for neglecting me as I neglect my own son.

“You know those things will you right,” Misha tells me, as we FaceTime like we always do. With her constantly on the other side of the Earth, this is our only way of seeing each other. I guess Steve Jobs got one thing right.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m trying to quit,” I laughed. Knowing damn well I’ve been smoking a pack a day for the last twenty years and change.

“Good. The sooner the better. You’ve gotta be around to raise a little boy after all.” She’s been trying to push me to be more a father to William. Likely because she’s been working out her own Daddy issues. That’s why she stays on my case. But I can compartmentalize my life the way she can. I can only make time for so many things.

“The cigs are the least of my problems, love. It’s the women and booze that’ll kill me.”

“Women?” She responded, furrowing her pretty little brow.

“I’m only kidding, love. At least half way.”

“You’re terrible.” If only she knew.

“Hey, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta get ready to catch my flight. I’ll text you. Bye.”

“Goodbye, darling.” She said, parting with a kiss as our little video chat came to an end.

“You know I usually charge $1000 for the night, but because you’re handsome and have good conversation I’ll charge you half price.” I looked over, realizing my guest was still in the room. I suppose that other form of compensation wasn’t enough.

“I’ll pay the full. You go buy yourself something nice. Some new jewelry maybe. I like the pearls you wore tonight.”

“You should baby, you bought them,” she laughed, as she slipped her lingerie beck on. “Can I ask you something Johnny?”

“Yeah…”

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“Doing what?” I asked, looking up at the ceiling as I rested on the mattress.

“Do things that you end up regretting minutes later.”

“Because I don’t regret them in the moment. I live in the moment. And all that matters is how I feel in that moment.”

And that’s true.

I’m searching for something, a feeling.

And it doesn’t matter what I have to do to get it.

All that matters to me is that I get it.

*************************************************************************

”I don’t believe in karma.”

Says one Johnny Cannon as the feed begins; the scene, the inside of a lavish hotel suite, equipped with an indoor mini bar and jacuzzi - which is currently being occupied by the devil himself. The Brit sits calmly and relaxed, as the bubbles in the tub continue to well bubble. In his hand, a glass of champagne which he takes a sip from before looking into the camera.

“When I was young and naive, my mother would always tell me that “karma sorts everything out in the end” and I believed her. I believed in her idea that there was some great cosmic force in the world that would balance everyone’s moral checks, and tip the scales whenever necessary. I believed in this idea that good things happen to those of us who do good things.” Cannon leans back in reflection, pondering for a moment.

“But now I know that karma is a bunch of rubbish. It's a manmade concept - made by people who were too afraid to cross lines and ruffle a few feathers to get what they wanted out of life - made by people who were too weak to stand up for themselves and the things they believed in, and instead laid down like doormats getting stepped on by anyone who crossed their paths.”

“I spent my entire adolescence believing in something that couldn’t be proven. Hell, I kept that same blind faith for majority of my adulthood as well, thinking that God or the Universe would intervene whenever I got the short end of the stick. Whenever I was mistreated, disrespected, alienated, scammed, robbed, hurt, whatever, I would always get through it, thinking that the perpetrators would eventually get their just desserts. But they never did.” He says candidly, sipping some champagne as he soaks in the hot water.

“But now I know better. I know Karma doesn’t exist. I know it’s a lie made up by mothers to heal the mental scars put on their child's psyche by this cold society. It’s what they told us to get us to sleep at night, so we could carry on. It’s what they told us to help us survive.”

“Just look at the world we live in. You’re telling me that Karma is real, in a world where crooked politicians get voted in left and right? If Karma is real, explain to me why companies like Nike and Adidas haven’t gone under and continue to prosper despite the fact that they’ve built their global brands on the backs of overworked, underpaid child laborers.”

“If Karma is real, explain to me why men like Donald Trump have become billionaires, and may even be sworn in as Commander In Chief, while you and your God fearing, good-samaritan parents, wives, husbands and children live in poverty, living merely to pay bills and debts, barely putting food on the table, working as hard as you can just for ONE day off that you won’t even get to enjoy anyway because you’ll be called in to the salt mines by that boss you hate, and you can’t even tell him no because you’re afraid of being laid off.” Cannon scoffs at the notion, then sips some more champagne.

“If Karma was real, I wouldn’t be where I am today. My wings would’ve been clipped a long time ago. Instead, I’ve spread those wings like a majestic bald eagle, flying up corporate and social ladders. In fact, I flew into Toronto this morning via first class. I sat next to a swimsuit model the entire flight enjoying full course meals while sipping martinis, and when we landed we preceded to run through the 6 with our woes.” He says with a wry smile. “And I say that as the Baddest Man on the Planet, aka a man who’s done a lot of bad things to get here.”

“I’m not talking about stabbing friends or partners in the back either. I’m talking about unforgivingly bad things, like missing birthday parties, family reunions, breaking promises to the wrong people. But I did all those things because I had to, not because I wanted to.”

“You see, to get to the top of the foodchain, you’ve gotta put your own ambitions ahead of everyone else’s, and care only about your own feelings. It’s a harsh reality, but it’s the truth. Life is too short to get caught up in pointless friendships and emotional attachments because one day you’ll wake up as forty-or-fifty something full of regret because you lived your life searching for love and social acceptance, letting people around you dictate and determine your future because you didn’t want to offend or hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“But that’s the difference between winners and losers and it’s the reason why the girl that you secretly love keeps calling you every night in tears about that piece of shit guy she refuses to quit.”

“It’s because nice guys never win the race. They’re too busy being politically correct, too busy trying not to bump into the other racers, while bad guys like me happily kick and shove everyone else out of my way because I refuse to come in last.” He says harshly.

“That’s why I’m successful. Unlike most people I don’t sit on my hands wishing and hoping for things to go my way - I simply go after what I want and get it by any means necessary. Attitude determines whether you drive a Ford Taurus or a Ferrari. It determines where you end up in life. And right now, I’ve got the attitude of a man who’s had about enough of Karma, and I’m talking about the man now, not the myth!” He says with a grin.

“Don’t be fooled. The differences between Karma and myself have nothing to do with the fact that I smeared a little bit of Cherry’s mascara. They also have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I put Evangelista on the shelf. Everything that has occurred between us over these last few months is a direct result of Johnny being jealous of Johnny,” he jokes, “I mean it. Karma is jealous of me. Always has been. And I get it. I’d be jealous too if I watched some hotshot come into a company I’ve busted my ass for for years and find instant success at my expense. I’d be jealous of me too if I were you, Karma - if I were an FGA stalwart on the downside of his career, unable to stay relevant while your contemporary shoots up the card.”

“You’ve got hate in your veins, Karma. A hatred not so much for me, but more so for yourself and the simple fact that while I lost to Tony Carmine at Final Frontier, then lost to Chris Bond two weeks later, and haven’t won a match in what feels like forever, for some reason I’m STILL positioned higher than YOU.”

“And it’s been eating awa at you. I can tell. You’ve been trying to figure out how… how can this guy be more relevant than me? Well for starters I don’t constantly mispronounce my employer’s name,” he laughs lightly, wiping off a fake tear, “but that’s neither here nor there. To be honest, the biggest reason is I’m better than you.”

“I’m the best wrestler in FGA.”

“I’m the best wrestler alive today.”

“Those are not opinions, those are facts. That’s why you see my name at the top of the program, Main Eventing every other Vertigo while you and people like Fujiko Mine fight over who’s going to open it up. That’s why I get more camera time than the World Champion. It’s because people want to see me. I move the needle. I sell tickets. And fans know it. They know every time I grace them with my presence they’ll either see a classic match, or hear me say something worthwhile that’ll have them talking around the watercooler Monday morning.”

“Since I stepped foot in FGA Karma, you’ve done nothing but run in place, while I’ve run circles around you - and if you think just because I don’t have the Pride Championship that all my efforts were in vain you’re even a bigger idiot than I originally thought. The trail I blazed ripping through the competition leading up to Final Frontier cemented my place in the lap of fortune and the favor of the execs. I don’t need to win the Pride Title to prove my worth. With or without it I’ll still be placed on a tier above you. A tier you can’t reach, Karma. And that’s why you envy me.” He claims.

“Jealousy is a weak emotion, Karma. You’re so jealous of me that you’ve attacked me unprovoked, and have even gone out of your way to sabotage my matches because you can’t live with the fact that I’m better than you. In fact, that’s the reason why you keep blaming your defeat at my hands back in the summer on managerial distractions. And that’s exactly why I’m going to knock you out again this weekend. It’s because you still haven’t learned how to be a real man.” He says shaking his head.

“Unlike you, I give credit where it’s due. That’s why I publically acknowledged and congratulated Tony Carmine for his victory. A real man doesn’t make excuses. He just gets better. I don’t blame outside distractions, or divine intervention. I simply acknowledge that I was bested, focus on the areas where I need improvement, and retool myself so that I don’t fail when another opportunity like that is presented to me.”

“And that’s why our careers are heading in two different directions. It’s because you can’t seem to evolve. You’ve hit your peak already. Reached the ceiling with those two Pride title runs. As for me, my potential remains limitless, even at thirty-six years old. I can only get better. And this weekend in Toronto you’re going to finally come to grips with that because Canadian Stampede marks the day that I stop allowing you to use my name to keep yours relevant. The buck stops here, Karma.” He says with conviction.

“February 20th, that's the day I finish what has become an annoying chapter in my illustrious career, but don’t fret Karma, it’ll be something. Now while all my matches are must-see-television, this one in particular is going to be a doozy because the two of us are going to FIGHT. This will NOT be a WRESTLING match. It’s going to be an ugly, barbaric FIGHT. As soon as that bell rings we’re going to throw down. We’re going to push each other to the brink. Way past our limits. We’re going to throw caution to the wind, and morality to the back seat while we drive straight to hell and back for thirty, forty minutes, how ever long it takes until one of us decides that they’ve had enough and doesn’t get back up.”

“We’re going to inflict as much pain and misery on each other until one of us doesn’t get back up.

“Karma, I always GET. BACK. UP.”

“When I fall, I always bounce back on my feet. I always keep pushing. I never settle for the hand life has dealt me. And I’m going to show you that. I’m going to show you what a man with no fear, and no fucks left to give is willing to do to achieve his goals.”

“And when you end up leaving the arena in the back of an ambulance, ask yourself was it worth it?”

“Was it worth it to challenge the greatest gunslinger in history to an Old Western shootout in front of thousands, and perhaps millions at home.”

“I want you to ask yourself that when you’re laying there full of bulletholes, because I’ve got a full clip and I’m going to fire every round after round until you’re lying on the ground begging to be put out of your misery. And at that moment, when your pride has been stripped, your manhood robbed of you with Cherry looking on I’m going to put the barrel in your mouth and I’m going to pull the trigger.” He says coldly, and vehemently.

"February 20th is the night Karma finally dies." He says, lighting a fat cigar as the feed fades.