San Antonio, Texas…
…Oh the memories I have of this place.
I have had some great wars in this city. A few years after breaking into this business, I traveled with my home promotion, HCCW to San Antonio, where I had been booked into a Texas Bullrope match. It is a match that you don’t see anymore, but HCCW may have something to do with that, due to the no restrictions rule we had going for us, like most promotions during the 90s. The promotion was the epitome of violence and bloodshed, something I enjoyed and craved at the time.
The Texas Bullrope match I was in had me going against none other than a grizzled veteran who went by the name of MonsterMania, due to the fact that he was simply put, a fucking monster. He and I had been at each other’s throats for months, and this match was billed to be the final match in our feud. He and I had our hands taped up, and the straps wrapped around our wrists. What happened after that was nothing short of a war. The match itself lasted close to thirty minutes and while I went in as a young lion, I believe I came out something else entirely.
I ended up losing the match. My face was beaten to a bloody pulp. I managed to break my opponent’s nose, and cut him quite a bit, but I was a mess. Hell, thinking about it now, I was a goddamn wreck compared to him. Sure, I did damage, but he let me know that I still had a ways to go, especially if I was going to survive this business. He battered me every time I turned around. Sure, I gave him a hell of a fight, but he ended up giving me a loss, plus something else. He gave me insight. He taught me a lesson. And that lesson was that I needed to approach every single match, no matter what its place on the card was, like a war.
As that is what I was put through. It wasn’t a gauntlet. It was a fucking war.
Texas is a place that is not new to the concept of war. It was built upon war. The blood of the fallen. And that is what I find myself in, every time I step out through the curtain, or hell, even an arena. I know that someone is ready and willing to attack me from behind. Just as I am with them. There are no short cuts or time outs when it comes to war. I have been involved in one since I signed a contract over half my life ago. This war has been far more apparent since I returned to the SCW. I have put my body through Hell since I came back and it doesn’t appear to be coming to an end anytime soon.
In fact, it appears as this war is just now really beginning to pick up.
“The fans or the SCW universe as they have been labeled, are fickle. They are morons. I can’t help but insult them. I can’t help but shake my head at them each and every week when I make my way through that curtain, or when I am standing in the middle of the ring, peering out them, looking into their eyes. What do I see? I see mindless sheep. Do you not believe me? Look at the current situation with Syren and CHBK.”
I chuckle and shake my head.
“When I shocked the world, revealing myself to be the mastermind behind Syren’s injury, when I revealed myself as the person who tried to take Syren out last year, the world booed me. They showered me in jeers. They forgot when I fought against the Mercenaries. They forgot when Justin Davis turned against me. They forgot when I came back to stop Damian Angel. Oh yeah, they forgot when Rachel Foxx took me out with a sledgehammer and left me for dead in the back of an alley. All that mattered was that I attacked Syren. I cracked her head open and left her lying in a pool of blood. That was all that mattered.”
I can’t help but grin as the memory creeps back into my mind.
“Syren went against her word leading up to our final battle at Rise to Greatness, saying she would never stoop to lows such as attacking someone from behind, or having someone help her win. Yet, CHBK did just that. She reveled in it and took the opportunity to pick up a win. The crowd cheered her as she did this, ignoring the fact that she was a liar and a cheat. But look what happened, just a few weeks ago. Syren won the SCW World Championship, and she did it by stooping to lows she SWORE she never would, and what did the fans do? They decided to boo her. They have booed her ever since and I have done nothing but laugh my ass off!”
“Just as I can’t help but laugh at the fact that Alexis Quinne is now cheered. She spent a large portion of her career, engaging in activities that were considered “gang-like”. She was going around with PUNK Hazard and attacking superstars left and right. But Dante turned on her and the rest of PUNK Hazard, resulting in her having a change of heart. And the fans went from booing her every move, to cheering every single time she showed up in the ring, or picked up a microphone. They have cheered Alexis as she has stood up to Past, Present, and Future, yet booed her when she was the one doing the attacking, and running roughshod over the competition, backing the SCW into a corner. People praise her because she has stood in the ring as we have walked away. She wants to call us cowards, she wants to insult us and label us just as the locker room and fans did during the height of PUNK Hazard. How fucking hypocritical, Alexis. How fucking hypocritical the fans are as well.”
I release a sigh as I glare into the camera.
“Idiots. That is what we are dealing with here.”
I run my hands over my face and through my hair.
“And I get it. I really do. This is war, Alexis. This is war, SCW. The fans, the wrestlers, we all have to choose sides. We all have to draw a line in the sand. I have chosen my side. I chose my side at the end of 2016, when I saw the potential in Regan Street. I chose my side when I cracked Syren’s skull and made her bleed. I was not going to embellish in the cheers of the fans. I could give two shits about them booing me as well. I do what I want to do, no matter what anyone thinks. I could care less about the consequences, and the same goes for those who stand beside me in Past, Present, and Future. There is a reason we are at the forefront of professional wrestling. There is a reason we are truly the most dominant group to come along in the SCW in quite some time. It isn’t Ace and his little band of misfits. It isn’t Dark Fantasy. We have proven to be resilient. You knock one of us down, somewhere is there to pick up the fight where it left off.”
“Because that is the thing with war. You can choose your side. You pick where you stand. But in the end, you are there to kill or be killed. The same could be said with pro wrestling, Alexis. You see, boos or cheers, they don’t mean shit to me. I know that my opponent is there to hurt me and win. They better fucking know that I am there to hurt them and win. As I said, it is kill or be killed. I will walk into our match at Retribution and I will be conjuring up ways to hurt you, Alexis, to make you scream out in agony, to make you wish you were fucking dead. You better be doing the same, otherwise, we shouldn’t even be in the same match. As I said, this is war Alexis and this is a fight that I intend to finish before burying you next to all of the other bodies I have left in the wake of my wrath.”
I lift my hands up into the camera’s view, slowly clenching them into fists.
“Yes, I said bodies. You see, I have done so many things with these hands. I have shed the blood of countless competitors who have stepped into the ring against me. I have used these hands to wrap a chair around the head of Glacier, a man I led to believe he was my friend. I have used these hands to throw Justin Davis off of the SCW tron. I have used these hands to take a cheese grater across his flesh. I have used these hands to damn near cripple Jason Zero, CHBK, and even Asher Hayes. Why have I done those things with these hands? It is fairly simple, Alexis and trust me, these words aren’t mean to intimidate you. These words are meant to get it through your thick skull a message and my message, as I said, is simple. We are in a war, and in war, there are no good guys, there are no bad guys. You are seen as a good guy standing up against someone like me, and that is all well and good, but as I said, there is no good nor bad guys. In the end, there are only survivors, Alexis.”
“I have survived so much in this business. I have been competing for twenty years. I have seen empires rise and I have watched them fall. I have seen superstars come and I have watched them go. I have broken bones and I have pissed blood. I have been put through the ringer and I have survived. Have you truly endured, Alexis? I don’t care what you have experienced in your personal life because in the end, when you step into that ring, it means dick. What have you endured as a wrestler? Compared to me, absolutely nothing. And that is the thing with a lot of your generation. You think that because your best friend turned his or her back on you, that it is the end of the world, so you flood Twitter with bullshit like levitate, levitate, levitate. You may want to float around and you may like to keep your head in the clouds, but at Retribution, I will do what I do best and that will be bring you back down to Earth, introduce you to a harsh reality, so you can experience pain like you’ve never felt before. I will break you and I will humble you. You may think that I won’t, but in the end you will see that was nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you.”
I then lift my hand up once again, the hand that Alexis tried to crush in the door of a rental car a few month back.
“Speaking of playing tricks, do you remember this hand? This is the one you slammed into a car door. You hurt me, Alexis. You took me out for a little bit, but as always, I came back. You may have thought you were going to get inside my head, but you didn’t. All you did was let me know that you wanted to play. I like to play, Alexis so thank you. You and I have been doing this dance for quite some time and this Sunday will be our last tango. Yes, I heard you little speech at Breakdown a few weeks ago. You’ve taken shots your entire career! Bravo! When you’ve been doing this for twenty years then maybe we can talk about the abuse you’ve taken. You keep getting up and that is good. I want you to get up, because when I put you down, I want it to shatter your entire existence.”
“I found it funny that you basically want me to prove to you how much of a legend that I am. The thing is, Alexis…I don’t have to prove anything to you, or anyone else. I know what I have done in this business. My accolades and accomplishments speak for themselves. You need to prove to me, and the entire world, even to yourself, that you are as big and as bad as you seem to think you are. That is a lot of pressure. Do you think you can live up to the hype? I have seen countless superstars hype themselves up, only to crumble to the pressure, buckling when their “legend” became too much to handle. I have seen this happen to you on more than one occasion. Most recently, against Regan Street. You were going to do this and you were going to do that en route to becoming the new SCW United States Champion. How did that work out for you? You caved, Alexis and that is exactly WHY I know you WON’T be my worst nightmare, child.”
I stand up and back away from the camera, so my entire upper body is shown. I stare at the camera for a few moments before reaching down to the bottom of my shirt and lifting up and over my head. I toss it aside and lift my arms up and out, still staring at the camera, as if I want Alexis and the entire world to look at my body. Not because I want them to think I am some self-obsessed jock with the body of a Greek God. No, I want them to see my scars.
“Do you see these scars, Alexis? These scars represent experiences that I have endured. Moments of war that haunt my dreams, becoming a nightmare that I can’t always escape. I have competed in death matches in Japan. Matches that I am sure you’ve never experienced. And no, Alexis, watching them at home with your nerd friends, in between episodes of your favorite anime doesn’t count. These scars…”
I point to my sides and portions of my arms, before continuing to speak.
“…are from being dropped on explosives hidden by the ring canvas. They are from taking shots from baseball bats covered in barbed wire, and having that wire sinking into my flesh only to have it RIPPED out! And these…”
I say, pointing now to my chest.
“…are from putting my body through tables scorched in flames. Going through glass panels. Competing in numerous Tactical Warfare matches and Elimination Chamber matches. Once again, matches that you may have watched on YouTube with your friends when you were simply daydreaming about being a professional wrestler. While you were dreaming, I was living it. I deal with the aches and pains of being a pro wrestler every single day of my life, so you may have gotten more shots than me…you may have hurt my hand…but I deal with pain every day so what you’ve done is nothing new. It is just something I else I deal with. Something you may never have to truly experience, because the SCW has grown more sensitive as we enter the PC world, with its PC mindset.”
“And that is something I can’t stand about your generation. You talk tough, but your words simply amuse me. You have talent when it comes to stepping in between those ropes, and you have proven you can overcome the best this place has to offer, but when I hear your words, and I watch your actions, I am unimpressed. There was a time when talking tough made believers out of people. They knew your words mattered. Most of your generation immediately take to Twitter or some other social media outlet and bitch, moan, and complain, before putting a hashtag by it. It is hard for me to take you at your word when you are simply a hipster, claiming to be hip with a billion different things. But I understand, Alexis. You are catering to your fans, the same fans who booed you not too long ago, despite putting together the World Hazard festival.”
“That was innovative and I felt you were doing something amazing for this sport. I even participated and for that, you could simply thank me for taking the time to give back to this business, to agreeing to participate in your event. But no, you show me disrespect. I get it. You want to make a name for yourself and like so many others who have tried in the past, from Justin Davis to Gable Winchester, I will make you earn your stripes, but you won’t make your name off of mine. Hell, you should thank me for sparing you once Regan handed you your ass at Learning from History, which is something I figured you would have actually done from wasting your life on the internet like most hipsters do these days. I figured you would have learned from the history of violence I hold close to my heart, that I am the last person you should pick a fight with. I tried to tell you after that match that this isn’t a road you want to go down, but here we are.”
“This is what you came after. This is what you wanted. I will remind you of this as I take my time breaking you down at Retribution…”
I say as I step closer to the camera, to where only my face is in full view.
“You will know what a nightmare is. It is being in the ring against me as I torture you. You will that I have taken more a thorn to my side. I know you will fight me. I know you have a fight in you. I’ve seen it, but this isn’t going to be like playing a video game. I am not some big boss that you can beat after numerous tries. This is your one shot, your real shot. You better make it good. If not, then I will decimate you. You will be up against twenty years of anger, frustration, blood, sweat, and tears. Twenty years of not caring what I do to someone. Twenty years from a war torn veteran, who seen it all, been through it all, and lived to tell about it. If you think you are going to force me to quit then you have another thing coming. Remember this is what you wanted, but despite your little speech, you aren’t going to enjoy this one…little…bit…”
Josh Hudson 