Post by Nick Knight on Oct 16, 2023 4:53:53 GMT
Nick Knight is sitting alone in his office studying some of Emmanuelle’s best matches from IWF and beyond on his giant monitor. He has a yellow legal pad sitting on the desk and from time to time he will jot down a note of something he needs to take a closer look at later. He was definitely going to have his hands full in this match.
“She’s cute,” Penny said, walking into the room.
“I guess, I’m just trying to figure out how to not get my ass kicked,” Nicky replies, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
“She kinda looks like, Cin.”
“I hadn’t really noticed.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Nicky. You’re staring at this good-looking blonde on your TV, and you haven’t noticed how much she looks like our extremely hot wife.”
“I honestly hadn’t until now because I’m trying to win this match, but now I’ll have that stuck in my head, thanks.”
Penny starts laughing. “Just imagine how embarrassing it would be if you got a boner during your match.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to be too busy not getting my head caved in for that to happen.”
“I don’t know, there’s an entire genre in the business that is basically having sex while wrestling. The only way to win is to make your opponent have an orgasm, and the guys have no problem getting hard for that.”
“They probably have Blue Chews to think for that. I don’t plan on chewing on a boner pill before going to ring Tuesday night.”
“Probably a good plan.” Penny kisses him on the cheek before leaving him to his film study,
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Emmanuelle, you’ve worked your way up from the very bottom of IWF. I respect that because there are a lot of people in this company that think they can just jump to the front of the line. It seems like every person walking through the door just expecting to be handed championship opportunities simply because they’re the big swinging dick in some other company, or because they have the most followers on X. You’ve done shit the right way, and if you don’t start taking shortcuts you just might be the future face of this company.
I’m also a big fan of yours because you’ve got a massive set of balls on you. You’re absolutely fucking fearless inside the ring, and you don’t give a shit who they book you against. They could be up against a giant every week, and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck at a rolling donut because you know for a fact that whoever it is on the other side of that ring is not on your level.
That’s the attitude you have to have if you’re going to get anywhere in this business, and most of the time you’re right. The problem is that you’ve never been in the ring with someone on my level, Emmy. Hell, you haven’t been in this game long enough to know that my level even exists, but your ass is about to get thrown into the deep end of a pool, and it’s sink or swim. You are about to find the answer to the question, am I really good enough?
You really don’t want to know the answer, Emmanuelle because you have never stepped between the ropes with any motherfucker that gets off on pure violence the way that I do, but I’m not just some psychopath. No, I am the perfect combination of experience, ability, and insanity that lives for inflicting pain inside that ring. I am two hundred and forty-five pounds of pure rage that loves nothing more than the sight of blood, and I don’t fucking care if it’s mine or my opponents.
That’s why they call me “The Hollywood Butcher,” and that’s not some nickname dreamed up by a suite on Madison Avenue. It is one that I’ve earned every single night of my fucking career by spilling gallons of blood for the entertainment of others. It didn’t fucking matter if I was making fifty bucks for the night, or a million dollars for the year; I made sure the fans went home happy every fucking time.
Look deep down inside yourself, Emmanuelle, and see if you’ve got rage burning in your soul. Really ask yourself, do I have what is fucking takes to get the job done, even if it means going to a very dark place? It’s the kind of place that will corrupt you for the rest of your life, and no matter how hard you try to escape it will always suck you right back into it’s depths because that’s where you’ll have to go to beat me. Climb inside that ring with me and there’s a damn good chance that “The Princess of the Palisades” will die forever, and only a black queen will be left in her place.
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“How are feeling, Nicky?” Knight is sitting on the comfortable couch across from world-famous psychiatrist Dr. Phil Goode. “You seem tense.”
“I don’t think tense is the right word, Doc. I feel like I’m constantly fighting to hold something in, and I’m just getting really fucking tired of it.”
“What are you trying to hold in?”
“It’s the monster.”
“Nicky, how many times have we talked about this? The monster is just something unresolved that your brain is trying to work through, and it’s not healthy to hold those feelings back.”
“Bad shit always happens if I don’t hold them back. How the fuck do you think I wound up on Gator Island?”
“Do you need to go somewhere safe, like Gator Island, to work through it. I can put in the order right now and have you checked into a bed in the next couple of days.”
“Gator Island wasn’t fucking safe, and you should know that. How many times have we talked about that shithole.”
“I know of a place on the Oregon border called Redwoods that could be good for you. Is that something you would be interested in?”
“No, can we just try adjusting the meds some more. I’m not ready to give up my freedom for this shit.”
“Alright, but there is someone else that I want you to start seeing. She’s the best therapist I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with, and I think she could really help you.”
“Whatever, just give me her information.”
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{Nick lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his short hair.}
I have a confession to make, the last few weeks I haven’t really been feeling myself. I keep taking my medication the way that my doctor wants me to, but it just doesn’t seem to help the way that it used to, and I find myself slipping back into a place that I don’t want to go. It’s really hard to explain, it’s like I’ve fallen back into that place where the monster lives, and if I’m not careful is going to get out and all Hell is going to break loose.
{Concern is painted all over the face of "The Hollywood Butcher."}
Emmanuelle, I beg you to reconsider this match for your own well-being. You are far too young to live with the consequences wrestling me will have on your body, and your soul. This isn’t another battle royal where all I have to do is throw you over the top rope. No, if the monster gets free I will come after you with everything that I have, and I don’t give a shit if I hurt you. I don’t fucking care if I leave your pretty face covered in scars the way that mine is because I am a sick motherfucker once that bell rings.
This isn’t some bullshit game, and crazy Nick Knight isn’t come fucking gimmick. People have gone to the hospital because the monster slipped his leash, and it hasn’t always just been me. Some of them have been my opponents, like the guy in Japan that I hanged using a strand of barbed, and some of them have just been people out on the street that pissed me off. There’s a young woman in Florida right now that has lost most of the vision in her left eye because they fucked up my Taco Bell order. I don’t want to add you to that list, Emmanuelle.
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The office was much larger than Nick expected, and the decorating showed a woman’s touch. The colors made it warm and welcoming, and there was art hanging on the walls instead of a bunch of diplomas and awards. It was a lot more inviting than Dr. Goode’s office, and it was easy to see why the doctor was such a successful therapist.
“Dr. Goode told me that you’re some kind of professional athlete.” Dr. St-Pierre was a handsome woman north of sixty with short salt and pepper hair and a welcoming smile. “What sport do you play?”
“I’m a professional wrestling.” Nick could tell by her face that it was a trick to see if he would tell the truth. “Did you expect me to lie?”
“No, but I wanted to hear how you answered the question. You can learn a lot just from the sound of a person’s voice when they answer a question.”
“What did my answer tell you?”
“You take a lot of pride in your job, but there’s something about it that makes you hesitant. Let’s start there?”
Knight shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, how much of my file have you read.”
“All of it.” A big smile comes across her face. “Most people don’t figure out that I know the answer to most of the questions I’m asking until several sessions in, so congratulations.”
“I've been through this shit a few times. What’s my prize?”
“We get to start to unpack shit, and get to the bottom of your issues much sooner.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Good.” She reaches over and turns on the camera facing Nick. “Let’s start with you being hesitant about your job. Do you have any reason why?”
“I’m afraid that the monster is going to get loose, and I’m going to hurt someone. He has been locked away for a long time now, but I can feel him trying to get loose.”
“Let’s back track a little, when was the first time you remember feeling this monster?”
“I was probable fourteen and had just arrived in LA. I was a runaway street kid that honestly didn’t know shit about the real world now that I’m looking back on things. Anyway, this older homeless guy thought he could roll me for some food I found in a dumpster behind a grocery store, and the monster got out. I don’t remember anything that happened, but when I came to, he and I were both covered in blood. I had damn near beat the man to death with a chunk of asphalt I'd picked up from a pothole in the alley."
“That sounds terrible, were there other instances like that?”
“More than I could count, but it helped me build a bit of a reputation on the streets. When everyone thinks that you’re insane and willing to do anything to protect what is yours they leaving you alone. It wasn’t until I found wrestling that I was able to start getting it under control, at least a little bit.”
“What changed?”
“Which time?”
“How about this most recent time?”
“I wish I knew because things were going great, and now they’re not.”
“You should know that it's not uncommon to have set backs, and that you just need to keep trying."
"Trust me, I know."
"Good. Tell me about the paranoid thoughts that you’ve been having?”
Nick stands up and starts pacing. “I’m not paranoid, damn it. There are signs fucking everywhere pointing to a down turn in the wrestling business, and I’m just trying to keep that from happening.”
“Do you think the monster has anything to do with that?”
“Maybe.”
“I think that’s something that we need to look into further.”
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You have no idea how exhausting it is to be an army of one. I seem to be the only one that sees what is really happening in this business, and I am so tired of fighting my ass off for a sport that really doesn’t seem to give a shit if it dies on the vine. This is my family business, and if it wasn’t, I would have just walked away and left it to fucking die. I can’t do that though because this is an industry that my father helped build back in the seventies and eighties, and it’s a proud tradition my brother and I keep going today.
Tuesday night is going to be one last warm up before I have the biggest match of my life. October 31 in Toronto is more important than any of the matches I’ve had against Angel Blake, or when I faced Wraith for the World Championship because it’s at Halloween Hell I begin a whole new Legacy. I am going to take a championship that nobody gives two shits about and elevate it to be the most prestigious championship in all of professional wrestling. If you think what I did with the World Television Championship was impressive, you ain’t seen anything yet.
That means I need to focus on hundred percent on my opponent, Alexandra Calaway. I’m not going to lie, I don’t really know a damn thing about her, but you can bet your ass that come Halloween Hell I will know everything about her. I will watch every single match I get my hands on, and I will know all of her strengths and weaknesses. I will have a game plan on exactly how to use the rules of the Halloween Hell Match to my advantage. There is zero doubt in my mind that I will leave Toronto as The Invictus Champion.
Once that belt is around my waist, I will defend every single opportunity I get because I have proven time and again that I am a fighting champion. I will take on all comers and set them down one by one because there is not a single person, man or woman, that is better than “The Hollywood Butcher.” I will go into the record books as the greatest champion in IWF history, and they will bury me with that belt when I die because I will be the forever Invictus Champion.
Pax and Brooklyn, I want to apologize to you both right now, because soon everyone will forget your names. It won’t fucking matter anymore who the World Champions are because the only championship that will matter is the Invictus Championship. I will be in the main event of every single pay-per-view because I will be the only champion that matters. Then when all is said and done I will be remembered as the man that saved professional wrestling and elevated IWF to all new heights.
Shine that belt up real nice Alexandra because on October 31 she will be mine.
Well howdy there pardner.