Post by Fiona McFly on May 8, 2017 0:58:50 GMT
~RECORDED VIA FACEBOOK LIVE~
May 4, 2017
Well, well...lookie what we have here.
Ya know Spike...when I was a kid, livin' in an all-American neighborhood in a military family, I thought it was gonna be simple. My mom would have the best chicken 'n' dumplin's in the world cooked and ready to go, my dad would come home, in his full Navy regalia, ready to munch on the goods with a Pepsi or two, and I'd be sittin' there, happy as can be. It was great, those wonder years of bein' part of somethin' ya think was gonna be...unbreakable.
Didn't turn out that way--lost my mom, I ended up in a coma, and my dad wound up taken prisoner durin' the 1990 Gulf War.
I had to live one of the darkest chapters of my life, knowin' that my FAMILY was all fucked up. I've had to endure nights when I would get little sleep, sometimes none at all. I've had days in which I'd cry myself to death on my back porch, lookin' up at the stormy skies above wonderin' "dear Christ, please help me get through this." To fight all the pain and hell I had to endure, I started drinkin', and damn...I was goin' down. I was makin' good grades in school, but it never mattered to me--'cuz I was a mess on the inside.
And some years after graduation...I turned to wrestlin'.
God, I loved the gig as a whole. It was a chance for me to go out and travel, flyin' first class from town to town, city to city, country to country. Yet while I was havin' the itch to be in the ring, my heart was still shot to shit. I never stopped drinkin' throughout my career; no one saw it 'cuz when I was goin' toe to toe with the likes of you, Spike, I'd block out the pain I was feelin' as best I could. Yet I'd go back behind the curtain, down two shots of Kentucky red-eye, and move onto the next show.
That was me in a nutshell--all fucked up, nowhere to go, forced into an early retirement...
...but it coulda been worse--much, MUCH worse.
I could've wound up dead. Everything woulda been on me--as is it now.
Yet somethin' great happened to me...probably the most incredible thing ever. I met two people, two WONDERFUL people...one of them was a kindergarten teacher and now a principal at the old elementary school I used to go to who's now fightin' for her life with everything she's got in her. The other? I've known her almost 20 years, went to the same damn high school, took the same history and math classes, graduated near the tops of our class. On this Sacrifice, this here Open Fight Night, she happens to be my tag-partner, but more than that...
...she's my friend, my confidant...
...she's my wife.
Yet they BOTH have somethin' in common.
[pause recording]
----------
Chapter 1
"FATHER AND SON"
May 4, 2017
Well, well...lookie what we have here.
Ya know Spike...when I was a kid, livin' in an all-American neighborhood in a military family, I thought it was gonna be simple. My mom would have the best chicken 'n' dumplin's in the world cooked and ready to go, my dad would come home, in his full Navy regalia, ready to munch on the goods with a Pepsi or two, and I'd be sittin' there, happy as can be. It was great, those wonder years of bein' part of somethin' ya think was gonna be...unbreakable.
Didn't turn out that way--lost my mom, I ended up in a coma, and my dad wound up taken prisoner durin' the 1990 Gulf War.
I had to live one of the darkest chapters of my life, knowin' that my FAMILY was all fucked up. I've had to endure nights when I would get little sleep, sometimes none at all. I've had days in which I'd cry myself to death on my back porch, lookin' up at the stormy skies above wonderin' "dear Christ, please help me get through this." To fight all the pain and hell I had to endure, I started drinkin', and damn...I was goin' down. I was makin' good grades in school, but it never mattered to me--'cuz I was a mess on the inside.
And some years after graduation...I turned to wrestlin'.
God, I loved the gig as a whole. It was a chance for me to go out and travel, flyin' first class from town to town, city to city, country to country. Yet while I was havin' the itch to be in the ring, my heart was still shot to shit. I never stopped drinkin' throughout my career; no one saw it 'cuz when I was goin' toe to toe with the likes of you, Spike, I'd block out the pain I was feelin' as best I could. Yet I'd go back behind the curtain, down two shots of Kentucky red-eye, and move onto the next show.
That was me in a nutshell--all fucked up, nowhere to go, forced into an early retirement...
...but it coulda been worse--much, MUCH worse.
I could've wound up dead. Everything woulda been on me--as is it now.
Yet somethin' great happened to me...probably the most incredible thing ever. I met two people, two WONDERFUL people...one of them was a kindergarten teacher and now a principal at the old elementary school I used to go to who's now fightin' for her life with everything she's got in her. The other? I've known her almost 20 years, went to the same damn high school, took the same history and math classes, graduated near the tops of our class. On this Sacrifice, this here Open Fight Night, she happens to be my tag-partner, but more than that...
...she's my friend, my confidant...
...she's my wife.
Yet they BOTH have somethin' in common.
[pause recording]
----------
Chapter 1
"FATHER AND SON"
March 23, 2017 - 7:00 PM
A day before the wedding, at a marina pier on Joe Pool Lake...
...we find Jack Gaither and his father Kirk, watching the sun come to rest over the horizon as they have themselves a quiet night of fishing. A pair of tackleboxes are strewn across the wooden pier, along with an open ice chest containing several bottles of ice-cold Miller Genuine Draft beer. The weather was picturesque for an early-spring evening, with the setting sun creating a sparkling, twinkling image of lights on the waters in front of them.
Due in part to the fact that his wedding was scheduled to take place at 10:00 AM Friday morning, and in keeping with certain traditions, Jack was sequestered away from his fiancee, Fiona McFly, for the time being. Yet in the interim, this was a night that he had wanted to experience throughout much of his adult life yet never got the chance to until now. It was a time to reconnect with his father, a proud Naval captain and pilot who, in spite of being shackled by his own demons stemming from the death of his wife--Jack's mother Linda--as well as his experience as a P.O.W. during the 1990 Gulf War.
CAPTAIN KIRK GAITHER: Hey...were ya scared when I was gone?
Jack nodded his head slowly, before closing his eyes...and Kirk did the same, listening to his son as he recalled the darkest chapter of his life. Jack took a deep breath as black-and-white images of his past began creeping into his consciousness, as if a boatload of memories started coming together like pieces of a puzzle.
We see an image of Jack at age eight, tossing and turning in his bed as he tried desperately to get some sleep admist a powerful thunderstorm. When the flashes and the bangs stopped, we see the ghostly image of the little boy looking outside his window, gazing his eyes upon the parting clouds above the house on Wolf Creek Drive. We then see another image flash into his mind, as we see a silhouette of a teenaged Jack standing on the beaches of the Texas gulf coast, peering at a glorious sunset.
JACK GAITHER: Yeah. I dunno...I still remember tryin' to cry myself to sleep, yet on most nights after it stormed real bad, I'd get up and look out my window to see the stars come out. And it was nice. Just like, when I got a l'il older, I got to see the coast, and when the sun went to bed on the horizon...there'd be, like, a million sparkly-thingies on the water, like twinkin' stars in the sky. Like that mountain lake Fiona and I saw in Montreux...
We see another flash, followed by a third mental image showing Jack, now an adult, standing side by side with Fiona next to the famed Freddie Mercury statue, looking out upon the reflection given by that town's crystal-clear lake.
JACK: It was so clear, dad...that ya could see two skies stacked together like a bunkbed--one of the top, the other on the bottom...
We then see the next image--this one from last year, showing Fiona handing Jack his long-lost stuffed animal--a priceless treasure made by his mother when he was a child--on top of the famous rock formation amidst a spectacular sunrise.
JACK: ...and when we were standin' on top of Enchanted Rock, when the sun came up...it was real hard to tell when heaven stopped and when the earth began.
Jack opened his eyes, breathing a heavy sigh as we come back to the present. He then started trembling slightly as he turned to face his father.
JACK: I was scared at first, but I figured...ya woulda wanted me to move on in my life, to grow up from a boy to a man...but I never thought it'd be so hard, bein' without ya all these years.
A steady stream of uncontrolled water began to flow down Jack's cheeks, his lips quivering as he tried to maintain his composure but to no avail. We then see another image--this one foggy yet warmly hued in color--of a point in Jack's wrestling career. He is battered, bloodied, and alone inside a locker room; shaking with pain and anguish after a long and grueling night in a ring, we see him pull out a small bottle of Kentucky red-eye and down its contents. He then stood up, tossing the bottle into a glass recycling bin before grabbing his athletic bag and leaving the area.
The image subsides as Jack opened his eyes. He pulled out his iPhone from his front-right pants pocket, opening a selife that had been taken with his fiancee Fiona and his mentor and kindergarten teacher, Regina Kimble they appeared to be standing in front of AT&T Stadium just before a football game, looking happy and excited. When the former pilot saw the picture for the very first time, it made him smile--for he would soon realize just how precious the two women really were in his son's life.
KIRK: Regina, Fiona...they've changed ya, how ya look at things. They helped ya grow.
JACK: I'd have been dead long ago if it wasn't for them. They saved me...and I'm eternally grateful that God brought them into my life.
Kirk chuckled lovingly, noting how Kimble and McFly had changed Jack's life for the better. Without warning, the two men--father and son, dropped their fishing poles to the wood before sharing a warm, loving embrace.
KIRK: I love ya, son...always have, always will. Your mom was always proud of ya; so is your fiancee, so is Regina...and so am I.
JACK: Love ya too, dad...
Jack and Kirk let go, nodding their heads in unison before the latter pulled out a cold beer bottle from the ice chest...
KIRK: Want a beer?
...only for Jack to politely raise his hand up, passing on the beverage.
JACK: No thanks...I gave up drinkin'.
Kirk grinned from ear to ear as he opened up his brew, making a silent toast before taking that first sip. Jack, on the other hand, cast his fishing line into the water, hoping for a good catch; yet deep in his mind, he wondered about what Fiona would be doing at her bachelorette party.
"I wonder how Fifi's doin'..."
~THE STORY CONTINUES IN 'DEATH ON TWO LEGS (DEDICATED TO...)'~
----------
[resume recording]
Fiona and Miss Kimble, my wife and my mentor...they saved my life.
And in doin' so, they helped change the way I look at things in life. They helped me see beyond what was black or white, that there was more to this wrestlin' gig than what you've always thrown in people's faces all these years. I mean, shit...your partner, your next big trainin' project Pandora Freeman, is gonna co-headline Night of the Immortals and all that stuff. You should be proud, right? Fifi got to do the same thing last year, but unlike you Spike...I know a l'il trick or two that makes a name into a TRUE fightin' champion...a people's champion..
Fifi knows it. Miss Kimble knows it. I know it, so does the rest of IWF...
...it ain't IF ya win or lose somethin', and it CERTAINLY ain't about if ya even make it to a certain point in your lifetime...
...it's about HOW ya get there that truly defines who you are as a person.
And quite frankly...she don't deserve to be at NOTI. She might've won the IM but doesn't deserve the damn thing--not after beatin' a majority of rookies who, as talented as they are, ain't ready for the big-time just yet. On top of that...she screwed Fifi over TWICE, not to mention stickin' her tongue down her throat just 'cuz she thought she was cute. What's she gonna do next if she wins the Diamonds title, have a full-blown orgy with a glass bottle of Coke or somethin'?!
And you trained this sweet, innocent gal, huh? Pan's soul is goin' down the shitter, replaced by this fake sense of invincibility and infallibility.
Fifi's ten times stronger in the heart than the two of your will EVER be, bar none. She's had her own family thrown into chaos, yet she's kept on comin' back even after people like YOU said it couldn't be done.
Dishonesty is your callin' card, Spike--even if you've always thought you were right and everyone else was wrong. Violence is your family--always has been for, what, twenty-somethin' years?! A steel chair is your dad, a long chain is your ma, and a pair of pliers represents a siblin'. You've used that familial vice to unleash all kinds of hell on those who accepted your terms, your rules. The list of names that have fallen into your trap since January 2017 reads like somethin' you'd find in the yellow pages.
Johnny Gillmen, Falcon...and a few more I can't remember off the top of my head...
...they gave into you. They paid the price for it.
I didn't. I won't.
The "old" me--the guy who used to get drunk off his ass every night--would've taken up on your offer in a heartbeat...where you woulda proceeded to try and murder me 'til I was good and dead. And for what?! To satisfy your own twisted sense of pride, to feed off the grief anger ya felt after ya lost your son...'cuz in your mind, you're wantin' to be this Superman-like figure, fightin' all the injustice in the world. Yet you've created your own unjust world BY YOURSELF...and no one else. Not JJ, not me...you. You've created this novelty in your soul that whatever ya do will somehow raise him back from the dead, but life just don't work that way.
I know that feelin' well--VERY well--'cuz I've seen death happen in front of my own eyes.
And it doesn't feel very good.
That's why when ya decided to raise the stakes and make it into your specialty, I sat down and took the time to mull my decision...'cuz instead of allowin' myself to get my ass killed out there just to satisfy your own personal demons, I thought about Fifi and Miss Kimble, about what they would say had I said "yeah." Yet here ya are, thinkin' I'm scared of ya for not cavin' into your bullshit. You're wrong, bub, DEAD wrong. And if ya live to be a thousand years old, will that make any sense to you?
Will that make any goddamn sense!?!
I wanted YOU to think about this match, Spike. I wanted you to think about what wrestlin' an actual CIVILIZED tag-match would be like--where the rules are enforced, where ya get DQd for doin' stupid shit, and where the Mortal Kombat is honorable and pure. I wanted you to reflect upon all those beatin's ya dished out, all those people you've crucified like Xavier Cross, all those career's you've tried to end like Johnny's...
...'cuz quite frankly, you're NOTHIN' without that "family" that you call violence, without that callin' card of dishonesty.
Well lemme tell ya somethin'...that ain't what this business is about.
It ain't about titles or accolades, the chairs or the crucifixions...it's about livin' through all the shit thrown at ya and earnin' respect.
I know what it felt like to live without winnin' all the stuff you've won Spike. I know what it felt like to live without a stable family to come home to every time I get back from the road. I know what it felt like thinkin' I could turn back the clock and bring back the loved ones I've lost. Yet through it all, I've managed to survive without waverin' for a second, without losin' the heart and desire to keep on goin' strong even as my life continued to throw shitball after shitball at me.
That, Spike, is the hallmark of bein' a REAL champion, what this business TRULY means to me.
In the end, I'm gonna make sure that history never forgets...the name, Gaither.
That's how I see it.
[end recording]
----------
[resume recording]
Fiona and Miss Kimble, my wife and my mentor...they saved my life.
And in doin' so, they helped change the way I look at things in life. They helped me see beyond what was black or white, that there was more to this wrestlin' gig than what you've always thrown in people's faces all these years. I mean, shit...your partner, your next big trainin' project Pandora Freeman, is gonna co-headline Night of the Immortals and all that stuff. You should be proud, right? Fifi got to do the same thing last year, but unlike you Spike...I know a l'il trick or two that makes a name into a TRUE fightin' champion...a people's champion..
Fifi knows it. Miss Kimble knows it. I know it, so does the rest of IWF...
...it ain't IF ya win or lose somethin', and it CERTAINLY ain't about if ya even make it to a certain point in your lifetime...
...it's about HOW ya get there that truly defines who you are as a person.
And quite frankly...she don't deserve to be at NOTI. She might've won the IM but doesn't deserve the damn thing--not after beatin' a majority of rookies who, as talented as they are, ain't ready for the big-time just yet. On top of that...she screwed Fifi over TWICE, not to mention stickin' her tongue down her throat just 'cuz she thought she was cute. What's she gonna do next if she wins the Diamonds title, have a full-blown orgy with a glass bottle of Coke or somethin'?!
And you trained this sweet, innocent gal, huh? Pan's soul is goin' down the shitter, replaced by this fake sense of invincibility and infallibility.
Fifi's ten times stronger in the heart than the two of your will EVER be, bar none. She's had her own family thrown into chaos, yet she's kept on comin' back even after people like YOU said it couldn't be done.
Dishonesty is your callin' card, Spike--even if you've always thought you were right and everyone else was wrong. Violence is your family--always has been for, what, twenty-somethin' years?! A steel chair is your dad, a long chain is your ma, and a pair of pliers represents a siblin'. You've used that familial vice to unleash all kinds of hell on those who accepted your terms, your rules. The list of names that have fallen into your trap since January 2017 reads like somethin' you'd find in the yellow pages.
Johnny Gillmen, Falcon...and a few more I can't remember off the top of my head...
...they gave into you. They paid the price for it.
I didn't. I won't.
The "old" me--the guy who used to get drunk off his ass every night--would've taken up on your offer in a heartbeat...where you woulda proceeded to try and murder me 'til I was good and dead. And for what?! To satisfy your own twisted sense of pride, to feed off the grief anger ya felt after ya lost your son...'cuz in your mind, you're wantin' to be this Superman-like figure, fightin' all the injustice in the world. Yet you've created your own unjust world BY YOURSELF...and no one else. Not JJ, not me...you. You've created this novelty in your soul that whatever ya do will somehow raise him back from the dead, but life just don't work that way.
I know that feelin' well--VERY well--'cuz I've seen death happen in front of my own eyes.
And it doesn't feel very good.
That's why when ya decided to raise the stakes and make it into your specialty, I sat down and took the time to mull my decision...'cuz instead of allowin' myself to get my ass killed out there just to satisfy your own personal demons, I thought about Fifi and Miss Kimble, about what they would say had I said "yeah." Yet here ya are, thinkin' I'm scared of ya for not cavin' into your bullshit. You're wrong, bub, DEAD wrong. And if ya live to be a thousand years old, will that make any sense to you?
Will that make any goddamn sense!?!
I wanted YOU to think about this match, Spike. I wanted you to think about what wrestlin' an actual CIVILIZED tag-match would be like--where the rules are enforced, where ya get DQd for doin' stupid shit, and where the Mortal Kombat is honorable and pure. I wanted you to reflect upon all those beatin's ya dished out, all those people you've crucified like Xavier Cross, all those career's you've tried to end like Johnny's...
...'cuz quite frankly, you're NOTHIN' without that "family" that you call violence, without that callin' card of dishonesty.
Well lemme tell ya somethin'...that ain't what this business is about.
It ain't about titles or accolades, the chairs or the crucifixions...it's about livin' through all the shit thrown at ya and earnin' respect.
I know what it felt like to live without winnin' all the stuff you've won Spike. I know what it felt like to live without a stable family to come home to every time I get back from the road. I know what it felt like thinkin' I could turn back the clock and bring back the loved ones I've lost. Yet through it all, I've managed to survive without waverin' for a second, without losin' the heart and desire to keep on goin' strong even as my life continued to throw shitball after shitball at me.
That, Spike, is the hallmark of bein' a REAL champion, what this business TRULY means to me.
In the end, I'm gonna make sure that history never forgets...the name, Gaither.
That's how I see it.
[end recording]
Well howdy there pardner.