Bloody

[Eddie Black]

I’ve been traveling with Eddie since we were both 17, back then we were just a couple of love sick high schoolers looking to make our way in the world. I never thought the day we set out for our first show, me with my camera to document his life and him with a pair of boots and a dream that it’d lead to IWF.

Anyone who tells you the life of a professional wrestler is easy is either A, not a professional wrestler or B, a liar. I’ve been with Eddie through every step of his career, from the backyards back home all the way to the arenas in Japan, the road wasn’t easy. I’m not saying it was it was any harder than anyone else’s, but whether it takes you one year or fifteen years to get to the big leagues, it’s hard. Brutal even. The most excruciating time of your life.

And it doesn’t get any easier. See, he never really expected to hear from any of the big leagues but when he got the call from IWF one day, well he just had to look into it. I mean, why not, right?

Simon flew us in direct to Bloody Azzises a few months back, it was nice. The plane was decked out from wall to wall in red velvet like we were some kind of royalty, all the seating was first class and there wasn’t single crying babe in sight, not to mentiont he incredibly stacked liquor bar. When we got there we were shown to Simon’s private booth to watch the show and let me just say, he lives like a king.

Looking around, Eddie and I thought maybe we had finally made it, maybe this is one all the crazy hard work and blood shed starts turning into a real living where we can settle down, had our long nights of drunken conversations over a case of beer finally become real? Nope. Not even close. That was just the beginning of a new chapter in our crazy story.

( Due to the legal restrictions of outside sources filming within an IWF sponsored event we are only able to play the audio recording from that night. )

Simon de Montfort: Mr. Black, Ms. Wells welcome, it’s my pleasure to have you both.

Eddie: Thanks.

Rachel: Why, this is pretty extravagant.

Simon de Montfort: Yes well a man of my station can afford the best, which ties very much into what I’d like to talk to you about Mr. Black. Please have a seat.

We’d been all over the world, Eddie had wrestled everywhere, meet all different kinds of people but we had never met anyone quite like Simon. This was what they taught us about in school, this was what it meant to work hard your whole life and it all pays off in the end. This could be our life someday.

Simon de Montfort: I’ve been following your work for a while now Mr. Black and it’s become quite clear that a number of our fans as well as the wrestling general public believe you to be one of the best.

Eddie: Don’t know why, I ain’t zactly a grappla.

Simon de Montfort: No I am aware, you wrestle very much in the style of smash mouth, which I rather enjoy. The level of brutality you bring to your craft is nearly an art form.

Eddie: Thanks, I guess.

Simon de Montfort: I’m not going to beat around the bush here, we are very interested in adding you to our growing roster.

Eddie: I’d very much like ta sing wit ya.

Simon de Montfort: Good, then we are in agreement, all that is left to discuss is how much it is going to cost me.

Eddie: Pay me whateva, I just wanna fight.

Now as much as I love ‘em, Eddie isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box, he can be impulsive, brash and even stupid sometimes, but he always finds a way to come out ahead of where he entered.

Simon de Montfort: Well I’m sure numbers are something I can discuss with Ms. Wells then.

Eddie: Sure, ya book’in me next week then?

Simon de Montfort: *Chuckles* I’d love to Eddie but before I can insure you to wrestle on my show I need to make sure you know what you’re doing out there.

Eddie: Ya know I been wrestl’in since ’99 right?

Simon de Montfort: Yes I do but rules are rules. I’d like to see you spend a bit of time in our farm system, work with some of our truly legendary trainers down there to really hone your craft, then way when I feel you’re ready to perform on Sacrfice-

Eddie: I don’t hurt no one too bad?

Simon de Montfort: Precisely.

The smirk on his face said it all, he wasn’t happy. Eddie had worked just as hard as anyone else to get this far and to have the world dangled before him like a carrot to only be taken away and given another hurdle to jump, well it really pissed him off. He didn’t let it get him down. He was a fighter and he saw this as another chance to kick some ass. We took a flight the next morning down to IWF’s little training camp and that’s where we met Gibford Famularo for the first time… And God I hope the last…

( The handi cam comes to life as we focus on Eddie Black in cut off jeans, a black tank top and an American flag bandana wrapped around his head as he steps through the front doors of the IWF training facility. He looks the place over, noticing several of the younger kids aspiring to be wrestlers and almost laughing at their baby faces. His little reflection was brought to a quick and abrupt end when two monstrous hands clapped together… )

Rachel: Dear God…

Gib: Call me Gib.

( Rachel almost vomits as Gibford Famularo steps into the shot in a black thong covered head to toe in baby oil, his bear like mits rubbing together as he inspects the newest IWF prospect. )

Gib: You Eddie Black?

Eddie: Yup?

( Like a monstrous child, Gib smiles as he reaches out for Eddie. )

Gib: Lets see whatcha got!

No, the life of a professional wrestler ain’t easy, not even close, but when Eddie asked me to see the world with him, well I just never thought a half naked man child would be one of the sights we’d see together…Must be why they say love is blind.

Well, well, well if it ain’t Mason st. Croix, the ex military kid that kicked my ass a few weeks back. We musta showed someone upstairs something they liked to throw us back together so quick.

Let’s get the cordial bullshit out of the way cuz we ain’t ever gonna agree on much anyway. Last time ya whipped my ass an I ain’t mak’in excuses for it, ya damn good at what ya do. So am I. I’m a bit of a perfectionist so I didn’t take too kindly to the ass whip’in an I’m look’in to return the favor to ya.

Last time ya took offense to my opinion on championship and how utterly fucking worthless they are, unfortunately ya beat’in me don’t change my opinion. Glad ya disagree but I’ma stand by my point, championships mean shit. Their a piece of gold attached to leather an all they mean is ya was good enough to win it that night. Championships don’t make a man a legend in this business, the man does. Ya can crow all ya want about being the next whatever champion of the world but in the end you ain’t gonna be champion forever.

Eventually ya lose that belt and people move on. Trust me kid, I been around the block, held gold here, there an everywhere and ain’t no one giving a shit about it. The gold didn’t make me who I am, I did.

But go ahead an focus all ya attention on climbing the ladder and becoming the next champion of whichever division ya fancy, I ain’t wasting my time wit that. I’ma get in that ring and do what I love, whip some ass day in and day out and regardless of what I got round my waist I guaren damn tee I get the same respect as anyone of yer precious champions.

The fact of the matter is Mason, I respect ya and the time ya served for this country. There ain’t that many brave men left in the good old U S of A, so it’s nice to know someone is still raising us some respectable soldiers. But ya need to get ya head outtya ass. Ya need to open up them damn ears and listen because ya gonna end up talking yaself into a whole lotta trouble.

See, I like ya kid, I extended a verbal handshake an ya spit in my eye, lucky for ya I don’t hold grudges. Ain’t my way to get all worked up over an ego. I know ya young, I know ya still get stars in ya eyes everytime you step out in front of the crowd, I know ya still pretty fucking stupid about how this business works. Most people, most professional wrestlers, they fucked up and they don’t need a reason to try an end ya career, so ya lucky. I don’t wanna end nobodies career. I wanna fight. But I ain’t most people and the next time you disrespect someone the way ya disrespected me it may not end so nicely.

We ain’t so different kid an I ain’t here to call ya a bunch of names and talk down to ya. Ya good at what ya do, I can admit that. I’m looking forward to matching up wit ya again cuz ya damn tough, damn good an I wanna whip ya. So don’t get ya panties all twisted up, we ain’t Diamonds, Mason, we men and we settle disagreements wit our fists, not fancy back talk. Ya got something against me, don’t like what I got to say, don’t fucking waste my time telling me about it an debat’in like a bunch of women, kick my ass kid.

That’s my big master plan.

Now for the interest’in part, Jayson Matthews. Ain’t gonna lie kid, don’t know much bout ya cept what I read in the dirt sheets. Apparently ya were a pretty big deal some place else, Pedophile Champion of the World or something like that. Congratulations, I’m sure ya mother is proud.

I’m look’in at ya Jayson an I’m thinking how easy it’d be to pick ya apart for the way ya approach this business. Ya one of them just having fun types who only break out the effort when they think it matters. Yeah, I could rip into ya pretty good if I wanted to but ya could do the same thing to me. I’m sure ya got a bunch a real nice jokes all lined up to unload with that self depreciating humor we all love.

I’m not gonna mock ya kid, no worries. Ya living ya dream and who the hell am I to shit all over that? You wanna live life like it’s a big party, go fer it.

I’m liv’in my dream too. See, I dream bout beat’in the liv’in shit outta grown ass men. I dream bout rip’in ‘em limb from limb, bout break’in their bodies in the middle a the ring and stomp’in a fuck’in hole in their chest. I dream bout some pretty sick shit, kid an I ain’t afraid to tell ya bout it. My dream ain’t to hold the big gold strap an have everyone sucking my dick, call me fucked in the head but that ain’t my thing. My dream is to be as brutal as fuck’in possible and get paid to do it. My dream is to make my liv’in and my legend off a people like yaself an Mason.

I’m liv’in my dream every single time I step in that ring, be it in front of ten people, ten thousand people, it don’t make a lick a difference. As long as I got a face to beat the fuck in I’m happy. This week I got yer face kid an I’m looking forward to see’in how bloody I can get it.

Ya gotta excuse my taste for blood it’s just this place has a real lack of what I fondly call garbage wrestling. I’m a product of fucking destruction an I think it’s high time ya’ll stopped living like a bunch of pampered bitches with ya rules and regulations. It’s time for a little mayhem, a little chaos, it’s time to say fuck the referees and just beat the shit outta each other with some weapons. I’m dying to put a body through a flame’in fuck’in table. Whaddya think kid, wanna volunteer?

I know ya’ll got a real stick up yer ass, all bout competition an honor an all that boring ass bullshi but I say fuck it. I say we give those dumb bastards in the crowd the best damn match of the night when we go out there and jus try to kill each other for the sake a fuck’in kill’in each other.

I been in two matches here an I’m already bored of the fuck’in rules so Jayson lets say we stop living like a couple of pretty bitches locking up in some rest holds and actually kick some fuck’in ass. Lets say we just tear the whole bitch down an leave the rest of the fucks in the back worry’in bout how they gonna follow us.

Ya’ll can worry bout being the best, I’ma do my best to be a beast and start this revolution off right, bloody.