Post by Cable Arcane on Oct 30, 2017 0:54:36 GMT
Chapter Eight
February 28th, 2017
New Orleans, Louisiana
After viewing the footage everyone else seemed to think damned me to at least twenty years in jail I couldn’t help but feel more confident than ever. There was no way to prove the young man I threw on the ground and the young man who died were the same person, at least in my mind this was an open and shut case, my freedom all but assured.
However this reverie was quickly interrupted by Detective Smith who all but threw the steel door open allowing it to bang against the wall perhaps hoping to startle Jimmy and I in dramatic fashion but it was more annoying than anything.
“Time to go, Arcane.” Smith snorted through a toothy grin.
“Where are you taking my client?” Jimmy asked with a little too much fear in his voice.
“To his bail hearing.” Smith held up a pair of cuffs and allowed them to dangle before my face, the steel reflecting the lights on the ceiling. “Let’s go.”
Whatever confidence I mustered five minutes ago pretty much vanished in the blink of an eye. Smith stepped forward and locked both my wrists into the cuffs, making sure they were uncomfortably tight. I looked back at Jimmy as I was lead out of the room, the bald man in the poor suit shot me a thumbs up before the two armed guards pushed me to my left.
The journey from the interrogation room to the bail hearing was embarrassing. Just outside the interrogation room both my ankles were also cuffed and those cuffs were tethered to the ones on my wrists, walking was nearly impossible and I had to walk up several flights of steps. Of course once I reached the top of the steps and the door to the outside world opened I was greeted by a prisoner transport van.
The back of the van was lined with two steel benches and several other men and women were being ushered to their seat. Our leg cuffs were then all connected so we became one long criminal human centipede. I think in the old Clint Eastwood movies they called it a “chain gang.”
I could see the paparazzi peeking over the walls and snapping pictures, this was literally the lowest moment of my entire career. I felt utterly humiliated and completely worthless, less than human in these chains.
The doors to the van closed as I took my seat on the cold steel bench. The van fired up and before long we were on our way toward the court house. The trip felt like it took literally forever as for the millionth time my whole situation ran through my mind. I did my best to not make eye contact with anyone inside the van with me, I didn’t want to see my own self assured innocence reflected in their eyes.
The walk from the van to the holding cell was like something out of an old prison movie. A long row of maybe a dozen inmates making their way slowly down four flights of stairs. The only difference was I was a part of this movie, I was living this movie. My skin was being slowly cut into by the steel around my wrists and ankles, my pride was slowly being eroded as my every movement was dictated to me. I’d been robbed of my basic freedoms as a human being. I was nothing more than an animal to the guards who escorted us.
Once in the holding cell with all my other travel mates I got to witness something I had never expected to see. A man using the toilet in the corner of a room in front of a dozen strangers. This is how people in the penial system are treated and it disgusted me.
I don’t know if I sat in that holding cell for minutes or hours, I just know I felt a sense of relief when my name was finally called.
“Arcane, Cable?” A young guard in all tan spoke from the other side of the door. I stood up quickly, hoping this would all be over relatively soon.
The young man lead me with two more armed guards down a long white hall way to a set of double oak doors. The two guards pushed them open and I was ushered into a court room which was what I felt surprisingly full for something as simple as a bail hearing. A lady judge sat behind the typical podium, her hair a dark brown with highlights of grey in it.
“We are here for the bail hearing of one Cable Arcane.” She spoke in a matter of fact tone of voice. “Do you understand the charges being levied against you?” She asked in fairly unconcerned tone of voice.
“I do.” I managed to stammer.
“Then the court here by sets your bail at one million dollars.” She struck her gavel so fast I actually flinched.
That’s it? I thought to myself as the guards moved in again and removed me from the large room.
One million dollars was the cost of my freedom…
“How long do I have to make bail?” I suddenly blurted out to either of the two guards.
The one to my left checked his watch before answering, “Two hours before the busses leave for the state penn.”
Two hours and one million dollars was all that separated me from fresh air. Dare I say I felt pretty fucked in that moment?
The Best in the World.
That is who I am.
That is what I am about.
For well over a decade I have traveled this world and honed my craft to ensure that on any given night I step into the squared circle I am the absolute best.
I’ve failed, fallen been defeated more times than I can count. I climbed through the ranks of the independent circuit to Imperial Wrestling only to have it all ripped away after following a false god.
I laid flat on my back counting the lights actually believing my career was over…
But I never gave up. I did whatever it took. I drove across country, flew over oceans, went days sometimes without rest or food simply because I couldn’t afford both just for the chance to step in the ring with better competition. I traveled from one side of the globe to the other, up and down and everywhere in between. I faced and defeated some of the best in the world, the one’s IWF doesn’t recognize because they exist outside of this little bubble universe.
I scratched and clawed my way through the world of professional wrestling until even the great Roberto Verona could no longer ignore me.
I made a name for myself as the Best wrestler in the entire world not working for Roberto Verona and so Roberto Verona called me. Roberto Verona offered me a contract. Roberto Verona came like an angel from the heavens and gave me exactly what I had dreamed about for five years.
A second chance.
I didn’t waste it. I seized the opportunity he gave me and I dominated his roster. I won the 2016 Heir to the Throne, abolishing my failure in the first and original tournament. I won the Imperial Championship and defended it with honor against any and all comers. I even offered to defend it in an open challenge to the roster, realizing that there are those who deserve the same opportunity I had. And when I did lose the Imperial Championship I didn’t sulk in my defeat. I rose up, I won it back and did something no one else has ever done.
That’s when Roberto Verona decided to enter me into his little Hall of Fame.
And even when I lost the Imperial Championship a second time I refused to stay down. I refused to be defeated. I refused to let my dream die simply because I no longer could call myself champion.
I am the Best in the World because I never give up, I never surrender and I never back down.
But you?
You’re a hypocrite, Roberto Verona.
That’s all you are, were or ever will be.
You talk of this selfless nature to be the martyr or the hero your company needs, you talk of caring for this roster so deeply, you talk of always doing what is best for Imperial Wrestling before taking care of yourself.
Where was Roberto Verona when Spike Kane crucified Xavier Cross?
Where was Roberto Verona when Spike Kane cut off Rob Diamond’s finger?
Where was Roberto Verona when Angel Blake let a panther maul Mason St.Croix?
Where was Roberto Verona when the Council burned down a ring?
Where was Roberto Verona when Rowan lit someone on fire?
Where was Roberto Verona?
Roberto Verona doesn’t care about his roster. Roberto Verona doesn’t care about his fans. Roberto Verona doesn’t care about anyone but himself and he proves it year after year psychopaths and sycophants continue to call IWF home.
Roberto Verona would rather sit back with a glass of red wine counting his money as men and women literally butcher each other in his ring. Imperial Wrestling has never been this bastion of hope in the wrestling world he presents it as. Imperial Wrestling is the personal playground of an over grown child smashing his toys together.
The only change Roberto Verona has managed to usher into the world of professional wrestling is a new levels of vulgarity and debauchery.
When you fired me five years ago I made it my mission to get back to Imperial Wrestling, believing your lovely little lie that this company is the end all be all of the wrestling world. Since I’ve returned I’ve made it my mission to prove that professional wrestling doesn’t revolve around YOU!
Professional wrestling is bigger than one man or one company, professional wrestling is a world wide community of passionate athletes and even more passionate fans. There isn’t a country on this planet that doesn’t have a thriving fan base hungry for the best wrestling they’ve ever seen. They watch it on their televisions, their computers, their phones, they go to the gyms and bingo halls you scoff at, they follow their favorites from promotion to promotion always clamoring for more.
They want and deserve the best.
And as a man who struggled at the very bottom rung of professional, a man who went from helping mop floors and clean the ring to holding your Imperial Championship over my head, I NEED to give them the best.
So when you sit there from atop your throne preaching about lessons in humility all I see is a man blinded by his own success.
You think Professional Wrestling revolves around your whims but lets be honest with each other for a moment.
If it wasn’t Roberto Verona and Imperial Wrestling at the top of the mountain it would be somebody else. It was Leonard Fox and NCW before you. Not to mention PWA and XHF, two prominent companies you love to ignore.
IWF isn’t some beacon of light in the darkness. It isn’t an anomaly in the wrestling world. There are countless companies with the stereotypical evil boss. And countless more promotions that honestly want to offer the best wrestling possible.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
To be the Best.
You call it selfish. Egotistical.
I call it exactly what you claim to want from the men and women on your roster.
I have fought for and earned every single last thing I have ever achieved. I have never asked for anything I didn’t deserve. I have poured my heart and soul into this business the same as you but the difference is I have never sacrificed my honor to get to where I know I belong.
And the only lesson being learned this Sunday is why they called me the Best in the World before Imperial Wrestling and why I will always be remembered as that after it.
No sleep. No rest. Do whatever it takes to be the best.
That is who I am.
That is what I am about.
For well over a decade I have traveled this world and honed my craft to ensure that on any given night I step into the squared circle I am the absolute best.
I’ve failed, fallen been defeated more times than I can count. I climbed through the ranks of the independent circuit to Imperial Wrestling only to have it all ripped away after following a false god.
I laid flat on my back counting the lights actually believing my career was over…
But I never gave up. I did whatever it took. I drove across country, flew over oceans, went days sometimes without rest or food simply because I couldn’t afford both just for the chance to step in the ring with better competition. I traveled from one side of the globe to the other, up and down and everywhere in between. I faced and defeated some of the best in the world, the one’s IWF doesn’t recognize because they exist outside of this little bubble universe.
I scratched and clawed my way through the world of professional wrestling until even the great Roberto Verona could no longer ignore me.
I made a name for myself as the Best wrestler in the entire world not working for Roberto Verona and so Roberto Verona called me. Roberto Verona offered me a contract. Roberto Verona came like an angel from the heavens and gave me exactly what I had dreamed about for five years.
A second chance.
I didn’t waste it. I seized the opportunity he gave me and I dominated his roster. I won the 2016 Heir to the Throne, abolishing my failure in the first and original tournament. I won the Imperial Championship and defended it with honor against any and all comers. I even offered to defend it in an open challenge to the roster, realizing that there are those who deserve the same opportunity I had. And when I did lose the Imperial Championship I didn’t sulk in my defeat. I rose up, I won it back and did something no one else has ever done.
That’s when Roberto Verona decided to enter me into his little Hall of Fame.
And even when I lost the Imperial Championship a second time I refused to stay down. I refused to be defeated. I refused to let my dream die simply because I no longer could call myself champion.
I am the Best in the World because I never give up, I never surrender and I never back down.
But you?
You’re a hypocrite, Roberto Verona.
That’s all you are, were or ever will be.
You talk of this selfless nature to be the martyr or the hero your company needs, you talk of caring for this roster so deeply, you talk of always doing what is best for Imperial Wrestling before taking care of yourself.
Where was Roberto Verona when Spike Kane crucified Xavier Cross?
Where was Roberto Verona when Spike Kane cut off Rob Diamond’s finger?
Where was Roberto Verona when Angel Blake let a panther maul Mason St.Croix?
Where was Roberto Verona when the Council burned down a ring?
Where was Roberto Verona when Rowan lit someone on fire?
Where was Roberto Verona?
Roberto Verona doesn’t care about his roster. Roberto Verona doesn’t care about his fans. Roberto Verona doesn’t care about anyone but himself and he proves it year after year psychopaths and sycophants continue to call IWF home.
Roberto Verona would rather sit back with a glass of red wine counting his money as men and women literally butcher each other in his ring. Imperial Wrestling has never been this bastion of hope in the wrestling world he presents it as. Imperial Wrestling is the personal playground of an over grown child smashing his toys together.
The only change Roberto Verona has managed to usher into the world of professional wrestling is a new levels of vulgarity and debauchery.
When you fired me five years ago I made it my mission to get back to Imperial Wrestling, believing your lovely little lie that this company is the end all be all of the wrestling world. Since I’ve returned I’ve made it my mission to prove that professional wrestling doesn’t revolve around YOU!
Professional wrestling is bigger than one man or one company, professional wrestling is a world wide community of passionate athletes and even more passionate fans. There isn’t a country on this planet that doesn’t have a thriving fan base hungry for the best wrestling they’ve ever seen. They watch it on their televisions, their computers, their phones, they go to the gyms and bingo halls you scoff at, they follow their favorites from promotion to promotion always clamoring for more.
They want and deserve the best.
And as a man who struggled at the very bottom rung of professional, a man who went from helping mop floors and clean the ring to holding your Imperial Championship over my head, I NEED to give them the best.
So when you sit there from atop your throne preaching about lessons in humility all I see is a man blinded by his own success.
You think Professional Wrestling revolves around your whims but lets be honest with each other for a moment.
If it wasn’t Roberto Verona and Imperial Wrestling at the top of the mountain it would be somebody else. It was Leonard Fox and NCW before you. Not to mention PWA and XHF, two prominent companies you love to ignore.
IWF isn’t some beacon of light in the darkness. It isn’t an anomaly in the wrestling world. There are countless companies with the stereotypical evil boss. And countless more promotions that honestly want to offer the best wrestling possible.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
To be the Best.
You call it selfish. Egotistical.
I call it exactly what you claim to want from the men and women on your roster.
I have fought for and earned every single last thing I have ever achieved. I have never asked for anything I didn’t deserve. I have poured my heart and soul into this business the same as you but the difference is I have never sacrificed my honor to get to where I know I belong.
And the only lesson being learned this Sunday is why they called me the Best in the World before Imperial Wrestling and why I will always be remembered as that after it.
No sleep. No rest. Do whatever it takes to be the best.
Well howdy there pardner.