The End?

[Notorious B.O.B.]

“So fuck me, right?”

A sigh escapes him as he slides into his chair, nearly rolling back out of frame. Luckily, though, he’s able to grab hold of the desk and roll himself back into the shot.

“Well, that wasn’t as smooth as I thought it’d have been,” he continues, a glimmer of a smirk dancing at the corner of his mouth as he settles himself down. “I guess at this point you guys have all gotten caught up on that …” as he clenches his teeth, the muscles in his jaw flex. It’s apparent that he’s trying his best to restrain, or at least temper, his thought process. “So I guess you guys saw the match; and you saw the results.”

As he takes a deep breath, he closes his eyes for a moment. Opening them once more, a sneer appears where a smile normally sits. “I knew,” he continues, “I knew that nothing good would come from working with that woman.” The word ‘woman’ is said with the upmost venom, as though this wasn’t the first word that had tried to exit his mouth.

“So not only do I have a loss to stare at,” he says with a scowl, “but on top of it all I’ve got to deal with Devlin smirking at me during the roulette. You know,” he says, the scowl fading but just replaced with a look of dejection, “there was probably a time when I would have said I could work with anyone. Man, woman, demon spawn like Ana Valen- sorry, ‘she-who-must-not-be-named’.

I’ve worked with anyone and everyone, without complaint … until now. I feel like I’ve just had it up to hear,” he raises a hand up to his forehead, “with the bullshit. Like,” he shakes his head, “I just can’t listen to the bullshit any longer. I used to be able to hand it,” he says with a small laugh, “I used to be able to stand there, smile and nod my head while someone let the lies spill from their mouth like verbal diarrhea.

But then something happened,” he says with a shrug, “I don’t know if it was just that I turned thirty-something, but it was like a switch flipped in my brain. Now, as soon as I hear that first first syllable uttered I want to punch shit until it stops.

Jesus,” he slaps a hand to his forehead, “they’ve turned me into a fucking Pavlovian dog …” he trails off for a moment, just staring into space. “This,” his eyes turn back to the webcam, refocusing, “this is why I can’t stand listening to people like McFly. They just represent everything that I detest about this sport … well, rather, everything I detest about the human race.

McFly, her fiancé, that weirdo Gillman, the creepy stuck-up Diamond Lizzy something-or-other; they all just drive me up the fucking wall … and you know what?

I know it’s my problem.



Whoa, plot twist, eh? Bet you guys thought I was going to blame some more shit on them – yeah, well at the end of the day for as much as they make me want to tear my hair out, they’re just being themselves. See,” he half-shrugs, “if this was all an act, some stupid performance that they were doing each week …” he shudders, “well, God help them, ‘cause no court of law would hold me accountable for what I’d have done by now.

But this is who they are … flawed little monkeys.

I can’t fault them any more than they can fault me for being who I am – and I’m proud to be flawed; my imperfections are probably only reason my career has lasted this long … I don’t know when to quit.

You guys know,” he waves his hand toward the webcam, “you know the stupid shit that I’ve done over the years. The battles I’ve waged over stupid shit, the fights that I’ve picked that never really involved me … all of that, just, negative horseshit that really weighed me down for so long.

But you also know that with all that baggage, all those bad mistakes I’ve made, I’ve always owned up to them – tried my best to make amends. Some days I wish that I didn’t care as much as I do, but deep down I know that I couldn’t have made it this far without that ability to care, to love, and to feel the hurt when I fuck up.

Guys like Noah Field, they don’t have that capacity for caring … at least that’s what it looks like from the outside. For a guy like him, he’d have no trouble stabbing someone in the …” he pauses, cocking his right eyebrow, “oh wait, he did stab someone in the back. Well, he’s obviously not loosing any sleep over it, is he?

But me?” He chuckles, looking down at the desk in front of him, “sure, I’ve done my fair share of stabbing, but I’ve always realized how shitty it was – of course it took me this damn long to actually learn from those mistakes, though.

That’s the thing, though,” he continues, “it may have taken me a while, but I got there. The years of poor choices, bullshit excuses, and shady associations, I finally understood how much of a piece of shit I was …

It’s no wonder people were hesitant to believe that I’d changed; I wouldn’t have believed me either.

But there I stood, on my hands and knees looking for one final chance to redeem myself, to try and show my peers and the fans who I am – not who I was; and I got it.

I seemed to be on a short leash for a while, but after staring the temptation of joining KIWA in the face and not blinking, I think I earned a little trust and respect back from people. They knew that that old me would have leapt at the chance to join a group stronger than me alone, especially if it meant I’d get some kind of kickback in the end.

I didn’t blink.

It cost me a lot at the time; the losses seemed to pile up for me. Nothing I said or did seemed to really matter until one day I found myself staring across the ring from the same man who’d offered me that opportunity to join something greater than me.

Again, I didn’t blink.

In that moment, I knew that it had all come down to this; I might not be the strongest, the fastest, the most technically sound guy in this company – but I’ll be dammed if I don’t have one of the biggest hearts.

Which is why it hurts to know that this might be the last time that I look at this belt.”

Reaching down, he pulls something from his lap and raises it up to the camera.

“The Invictus championship,” he continues, glancing at the title, “it’s known more than a few owners since it was first introduced a few years ago. Looking back through the list of men who have worn this title around their waist … I’m the fifteenth man in two years to have done so. But this list, you see,” he continues, back on track, “it’s a hell of a list; we’re talking a mixture of IWF legends and one-hit-wonders. There are guys on this list that went on to become Imperial champions, and others who could have – but then just disappeared into the ether.

My match with Dorian Hawkhurst this weekend,” he says with a small chuckle, “it’s hard not to ask the question of which category am I going to fall under. Am I going to be remembered as one of the all time great Invictus champions like Warren Kane, or Noah Field, or am I going to be nothing more than an afterthought; a man who has held the title not even long enough to warrant his picture on IWF.com’s champion page, or the mention of him on the title record list.

Let me tell you, guys, if it was up to Dorian I’d probably fall into the category that ol’ Rob Diamond found himself; bookended between two Jayson Matthews title reigns with less than a month as champion.

Dorian is a guy who has gone through hell and back again in his personal life. From what I’ve managed to pick up, he’s fought off some pretty heavy addictions and is doing his best to piece his life back together – which obviously hits a little close to home.

But not only is Hawkhurst constantly battling those demons to stay clean and sober, but the dude wasn’t just handed this opportunity. Just like I did, he had to earn his shot – and he had to go through some pretty stiff competition to get here.

Will Peterson doesn’t just lie down, eh?

No, Dorian has shown that he’s resilient, he’s dangerous, and worst still – he’s hungry to prove himself.

All of that,” he says with a shake of the head, “means that if I’m going to walk out of this match with the title, I have to be hungrier. I have to remember everything that I did to reach this point; all the blood, sweat and tears that were shed for this opportunity.

I refuse to just roll over because I’ve got a soft spot for a similar sob story, so I hope you aren’t planning on trying to win me over there, Dorian. Nah,” he smiles, “I know you’ll bring your best, and hell, you know I’ll do the same. See, me and you, we’re the kind of guys who only bring our best. A win for either of us would feel hollow if we didn’t think that the other was all in; so, let me be perfectly clear – High Stakes, there’s no bluffing when you see me going all in. If you want to play at the big boy table, then you better bring that big boy attitude.

If this is my last night with the title, I want all of you guys to know that it’s been great being your Invictus champion; but,” the smile falls, replaced by a cold glare, “Dorian, I want you to know that I will not submit, so if you want this title – you’ll have to take it from my unconscious body. I’ve worked too damn hard for this to let it all just slip away.

I’m Bob Pooler, Imperial Wrestling Federation’s Invictus Champion; successfully defending my title,” he smirks, “yeah, that’s what I’ll do next!”