No Quarter

[Deleted]

“Perhaps I was being naive,” I admit with that certain bluntness I’ve become known for over the years, “when I thought this match was going to be an exhibition. When I thought you’d got over what happened between us years ago–” I shrug my shoulders, “–I thought we’d let bygones be bygones when you agreed to appear in the first Cougar Hunters. Honestly, I can’t let myself be bitter over something from four years ago, but you do you, Heather. What is it stuck in your craw exactly though?”

I pause for a moment as I begin pacing back and forth in front of the red brick wall in my basement. Dressed in my jeans and a Gaslight Anthem t-shirt, I’m not exactly in my most intimidating form – but that’s not important right now. My knuckles are dragged across my stubbled jaw as I start talking again, “Was it when I helped you become the Exodus Pro International Champion? Or when you and Riley conspired together to humiliate me in PDW? Was it when you left me for Zero McHannon? When I lost my Bloodshed title? When I left the company in disgrace because I couldn’t stand to look at you anymore?” The indignation in my voice becomes more pronounced with each rhetorical question, but I don't raise the volume…yet.

“Or was it because The Murder managed to defend the FGA tag titles against #Weather? Was it because I cheated on you…” I wave my hands dismissively, “…four fucking years ago. Because I have to tell you, Heather, and I’ll real fucking honest with you right now. I don’t care that much. You want to be petty and vindictive, go right ahead! You want to dig up ancient history to get some motivation for your comeback, that’s your prerogative! Because as far as I can tell, you won back then. You beat me, Heather. You went on to marry the man of your dreams. You opened the dance studio you already dreamt of opening, and you went on to live your life while I had to pick myself up by my boot straps. While I had to rebuild my reputation."

"Yet I still anger you? I still make your blood boil? You either want to, or you've just let those ghosts continue to haunt you to this day. And that's just sad, Heather.”

“But I’ve moved on.” I state, even blunter than before. “Because in the four years you’ve been ignoring me, I did exactly what I needed to do in order to recover from that defeat. And I’ve gone on to become the greatest wrestler in the world today. While you’ve been pretending I don’t exist, I’ve conquered companies. While you turned a blind eye, I went through the best that Sin City Wrestling could throw at me!” I gesture towards myself I speak, “Heritage title? Won it! Held it for a record amount of time back then. Vegas championship? Won that too! Global title? Won it twice! Made the seven foot tall, White Haired Freak, Legacy tap out to claim it the second time. Do you know how many people can claim to have done that?” I hold up a solitary finger just so she knows. “Me. Only me. And when Brytain and I wanted those tag titles, we won them on the first attempt, because we’re that damn good!”

“And FGA? Got my Grand Slam here too, you might’ve seen that title belt I had on me when you decided to play cheerleader for that sycophantic bitch you call a friend…” I chuckle, albeit briefly, “…when I did the unthinkable and beat Savannah Taylor! You think I held that title because that’s my status here in FGA?” I shake my head, “No…that was the last one I needed to complete my collection. You caught the Dynamic Duos victory before you left, but did you know I'm the only wrestler to have to have won the Gold Rush Rumble twice? Or did you see me lose to AMIRA and think that I'm going to be despondent? Come on, even you know me better than that...”

“But while you were pretending I didn’t exist, Heather, I need to know: did you bury your head in the sand or just stick your head even further up your own ass?” I take a moment, as if I’m giving Heather a chance to respond. But she can’t, she’s not here in the room with me. One hand is ran through my hair as I chuckle once more, keeping an eye on the camera as I begin to pace once more. “When you’re being pig-fucking-ignorant about what it means to turn over a new leaf, is that intentional, or are you playing? When you say that I need to be cleansed by fire…” I scoff, “…are you really unaware of what’s happened while you were looking the other way?”

“Go get your AxxessNet subscription, go back to Final Frontier 2015, and watch what I went through that night, Heather. You’ll enjoy it!” My voice is ripe with sarcasm as I mutter those words. A shake of my head and I’m ready to continue though. “Because I’ve been cleansed, Heather! When I spent six months on that goddamn shelf! Injured! Recovering from my shoulder surgery. I got cleansed!”

“And I rose from the ashes like a goddamn phoenix…” I pause, “…if we’re sticking with the fire metaphor. And I turned over my new leaf, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t be the inspiration for any more hack wrestlers. That I wouldn’t let the scum of this industry, the bottom dwellers, the maggots, peasants, proles, cunts, whatever you want to call them. I wouldn’t let them walk in my footsteps any longer. I’d show them they could succeed without the need to try and cripple people. You can tone down the pointless hyperbolic bullshit about murdering every opponent who stands across the ring from you. That you don't need to threaten to break every bone in a person's body to make a goddamn point. That you don’t need to attack people backstage to get ahead. That I don’t need to cheat to win. And to show them that the more you do these things, the less they become. The less you become.”

“Because I don't want to live in a world where morality means fuck all to anyone. Where we all just deal in an eye for an eye, then try to claim we're better than someone else. Where we all sink to the same depths as those who oppose us. Because I don’t want to live in a world where every rookie walks into their first promotion with an ego the size of mine - I earned mine over time, and through success. Because if that happens, that just means the trainers have failed. And I don’t want to live in a world where those same rookies walk in and get a title shot in their first match. Or proclaim themselves to be the next World champion before they've even wrestled a match. Or throw a bitch fit at the first obstacle in their path, and suddenly decide that they don’t need the fans’ support now. Because those trainers have failed!” I exclaim, “But that doesn’t matter to anyone but me, right? But I carried on regardless of what other people think, because my convictions were that strong. Because my belief in what I was doing was that strong. Because I can change things, Heather. Because I can make a difference.”

“And I’ve been doing that,” I state, proudly, “for ten long months I’ve been doing that, Heather. I came back and I beat Izzy Anders, Ryan LeCavalier, Annie Zellor, Cordy Stevenson, Johnny Cannon, Tony Carmine, The Usual Suspects! I beat them all! And I went to HKW and I beat everyone they threw at me too. Mark Storm, Evangelina Ramirez, Xavier Asher Daniels, Christian Kane, Nest! I beat them all! I’m the one who won the Destiny Cup, I’m the one who’s challenging for the World title in a few weeks. And I’ve done all that because I turned over that new leaf…”

“But you don’t get it.”

“You parrot the same shit as Chandler Scott, or Jimmy Page, or whoever else is trying to downplay my accomplishments this week. Tell me that because I’m being rude or mean that I haven’t changed my ways. Throw out these accusations without a shred of evidence. Without any proof. Throw shit at the wall and see what sticks, right? You want to get under my skin? Just continue being the hack you’ve shown yourself to be. You want to rile me up? Continue being so fucking clueless it hurts my head when I have to read the words you write, or listen to what you have to say. But, worst than any of that, you have the gall to think I’m unable to change…” I throw up my hands in disbelief, before running them through my hair once again, leaving them clasped together behind the back of my head. “…but you? You can turn over a new leaf, can’t you? Do you want to remind the younger fans what made Star Deveraux hate you way back when? Do you want to remind them of the shit you pulled in PDW? Exodus? Or do you just want to be known as the golden child of professional wrestling?”

“And you’ve got to tell me, Heather…” I chuckle again, lowering my hands back down to my sides as I narrow my eyes, “…is that an Exodus nickname? I want to know how seriously to take it. I want to know whether you’re literally bragging about being the shiniest turd in the bowl. I want to know if you’re proud of being the golden child among the company that collapsed due to corruption. Who mutinied from their owner and founder. I want to know if you’re proud of being the golden child among the people who were morally gray at best. At worst, complete and utter cunts.”

“And there’s the real problem. Because you got used to how things used to be, and you’ve failed to keep up with the times. Things have changed, Heather. You can think I’m the same little bastard I was back in PDW, but I’m not. I'm better than ever before. And you can think Savannah is still your friend, but she shouldn’t be. Not if you’re the golden child. Not while she fucks over Cordy. Not while she aids and abets those who want to burn FGA to the ground. Not while she’s being a petulant little bitch. But you’re too blind to see it, or you turned a blind eye to that too. Whatever helps you sleep at night, right? But like I did to her earlier this month, I’ll stomp you into that mat on Saturday night, Heather. Like I robbed her of her dreams of winning the Gold Rush Rumble, I’ll rob you of your dreams of a successful comeback match.”

“And because I’ve turned over a new leaf, I’ll do it cleanly.” I snark. “But there’ll be no bygones afterwards. This Saturday the fans may cheer for their Pretty Li'l Texan, but that doesn't matter to me. Because when I’ve beat you in Laredo, I’ll need you to get the fuck out of my way. I’m done with you. But you’ll have one chance to show me that I’m wrong about you, Heather. One chance to show you can be better than your friend…” I shrug, “…you can congratulate me on my hard earned victory."

"And there’ll be one lesson you can take away from this ordeal if nothing else, Heather. You’ll learn the hard way why they say Harter Hits Harder.” I flip off the camera before walking out of shot to bring the scene to a close.