Post by Duce Jones on Oct 9, 2019 21:12:53 GMT -6
Deep breath after deep breath.. The vigor of this No Disqualification Match was taking its toll. Each breath that I took of oxygen was becoming a trying task as it felt that I had wrestled with a boa constrictor wrapped around my throat. I look over at Dylan who seems to be still feeling the affects of the Krayzed Knee that I caught him with.
C'mon man! Get your ass up! You got this prick right where you want him!
Don't you fucking see that I'm trying!? I look over at an exhausted Thomas and we lock eyes as the both of us try to get to our feet. He slugs me with a punch, it's not his best shot or either by this point, all the adrenaline that's pumping through my body has made me numb.
I tag him with a punch of my own that leans him back a bit but he returns fire with another punch that dazes me. I recover though and sock him again.
Fuck! This bitch ass muthafucka!
My eyesight is blinded momentarily from Thomas' thumb being jammed into it. I furiously rub at my eyes, trying to clear my vision. When I finally do, Dylan is charging at me with ill intentions.
Watch out!
Fuck this, I'm going for broke. Whatever Dylan had planned, didn't go through as I stand tall with him over my shoulders.
Fuck him up!
I can't waste time… I need to end this now.. Spinning Thomas around my shoulders, I drop him face-first into my knee.
Now!
Thomas staggers back a bit as I move in for the kill. Quickly spinning him around, pulling him in and cracking him with a headbutt so hard that I see stars myself. Thomas dropped to his knees, out of it as I hold onto his arms.
Destroy him!
I do just that, while holding onto his arms, I drive my knee into his face so hard that Thomas pops up to his feet and stumbles backwards and falls off of the platform!
Oh shit!
I watch on helplessly as Thomas falls almost twenty feet behind the entrance set.. The fall wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be as something breaks his fall.
You could've killed him!
Who gives a fuck?
Umm… I look down at an unconscious Thomas. I don't mean to interrupt but how the fuck are we gonna get down from here?
Exactly! I told you to not climb up here..
Fuck all of that! He was trying to get away, we needed to act! Just like now.. Jump!
Jump!?
Aww hell naw, I'm not jumping down from up here..
You wanna be a champion don't it?
Yeah, but….
But nothing, stop being a bitch and jump!
He's gonna get us killed!
Thomas didn't die!
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" I say to myself as I look down at Dylan who shows a bit of life as he moves.
I look out at the cheering Dallas fans who are encouraging me to put it all on the line.
Fuck them, this is your match to win! Go for it!
"Aight… fuck it…" I say to myself as I near the edge and line Thomas up before taking a leap of faith.
This was totally a bad idea…
Indeed it was..
Best fucking shit that has ever happened.
With a loud boom, I drive my elbow into Dylan's chest! After a moment, the sound of a bell being rung breaks me from my tunnel vision and I hear the Dallas fans going bezerk. Medical personnel come rushing towards the both of us, making sure that we're fine.
We're not.
But I can't go out like a bitch on pay per view so I stand up, at least as much as my body will allow as I'm handed my newly won North American Championship!
I stare at, then over at the downed Thomas who's still being checked on. Raising the title high into the air, the energy from the fans, along with my still pumping adrenaline gives me the strength to stand tall for the last time before heading to the back.
Where I black out..
…
..
.
Two days had passed and I find myself stuck in Parkland Memorial Hospital. Not the ideal place to celebrate a title win but hell it was worth it. All of my life, I had never been too fond of hospitals, I never felt like they saved anyone. They couldn't save my mother from cancer and they damn sure haven't saved me from the voices.
C'mon, you know you love us..
Keep thinking that.. but at this moment, it seemed that the hospital was a better getaway than any motel room.. and seeing as I finally got a week off to recover from all of my injuries.
My phone buzzes, catching me by surprise.. it's a text from Jaiden Rishel..
[Say bud, just so you know, you've been booked in a hardcore match tonight against Sean Fuller..]
"Hol' up.." I state with anger as I stare at the message. So I reply..
[Don't know if you caught the GCWA pay per view, Homecoming but I'm in pretty bad shape right now, don't think I can make it.]
I press send and continue to watch highlights on Sports Center of the Dallas/Green Bay game. Never liked either team but it's the first inkling of sports that I've seen all year, outside of wrestling that is..
"Damn dat boy runnin' all ova' em.." I say out loud in reference to #33, the running back for the Packers. Then I hear that his last name is Jones as he's shown running his fourth and final touchdown. "Jones huh? Hell we might be related somehow.."
My phone buzzes again.
[We really need you here, you know that you're one of my top draws and I'll be damned if I give any refunds because you no showed!]
"Dis muthafucka…" I say, shaking my head.
[Aight.. l'll be there..]
Just as I press send on the message, I begin searching for my clothes so that I can get dressed. The I.V. that's placed in my arm makes the experience a pain in the ass..
With my shirt hanging halfway off of my body, I search around for a cotton ball. I've seen enough needles taken out of my mother's arm to know the proper way to remove the needle stuck inside of my skin. I finally locate one inside of jar in a cabinet and proceed to take care of business. I didn't have the steadiest of hands.. it had been a couple of days since I burned one so I wasn't at top notch condition. But I'm still able to remove the needle, using the cotton ball to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. At that moment, the door swings open as a nurse is making her rounds.
"Umm… excuse me but what are you doing?" She questioned with a stern look of concern.
I definitely didn't think this through but duty calls.
"Yeah…. So…. I'm not gonna be able ta stay any longa.. I gotta job ta get too."
"But we still have more test to run, you're throat as some serious damage and we need to make sure that we do everything in our power to help you."
I don't even consider it.
"Yeah.. no… see I kno' how shit work in these types'a places. I ain't nobody's guinea pig any mo'.." I walk up to her and hold my arm out with the cotton ball still applied to the puncture. "You mind helpin' me out wit dis though?"
She obliges and pulls some tape from her scrubs, wrapping it around my arm.
"This is so against protocol.."
"Just tell em, ya came ta check on me an' I was gone.."
Which I was as soon as she was done with the tape.
So you're just going to walk out and not get treatment?
Naw… fuck that.
I don't care about the treatment either but are you seriously jumping because he said so?
Maybe so… maybe not… I only felt loyal to the brand and its fans. I never wanted to let any of them down. I mean, it's the place where Duce Jones became Duce Jones… Those people made me and if I owe anyone a show, it's the fans..
Man fuck those punk ass fans! We do this shit for us, not them. If you keep making decisions based off how they respond.. then you might as well cut our career short.
I ain't tryna hear all of that, Jaiden just better know that his day is coming real soon.. now to book a last minute flight..
Later that evening, I awoke in the Adventist Medical Center… Fuller has caught me with a solid chair shot to the face earlier that evening, knocking me out cold. How long I had been out was far beyond me.. The morphine drip attached to my arm had me feeling things that I've never felt before as my body was calm and relaxed.
I was trying to make sense of it all.. maybe I should've just said fuck it and let the show suffer without my appearance. But that shit just wasn't in my blood.. Wasn't no freebies when it came to me, well maybe a few if I were to be honest.
I still hadn't gotten a clear answer on what exactly happened.. The last thing I remember was that it felt like I was being suffocated… However the thing was that, I had another match coming up and I'd be damned if I let this bullshit keep me out. If you haven't heard yet, they call me 'The Kid that Never Dies'.. because I refuse to stay down so much that it's probably going to be the death of me but at least I'll die doing something that I love.
I promotional video pops up on the television screen advertising this Friday's Inferno, my match against Lightning is mentioned. I giggled a bit because of recollections of him and his partner, Thunder's debut promo where they just yelled out their names.
"Hahaa, those guys are hilarious… THUNDER! LIGHTNING!" I yell in a mimicking voice before laughing aloud again which then leads to a vicious cough. "Fuck… my throat mane…"
You know, if this was a couple of weeks ago, I'd probably look at this match as an easy victory but the shape and condition that I'm in.. Lightning could probably rub his feet against the mat hard enough to build up enough static electricity to drop me with his pinky..
I'd still get up but I'm at a disadvantage is all I'm saying.. The nerve wracking creak of the door opening just about drives me bonkers and the head doctor walks in.
"Mr. Jones, how are you feeling?"
"I'm good, throat soar a lil bit.."
"I'm sorry to hear that but we have some antibiotics prescribed for you when you leave.."
"Cool, so what's tha news doc? Why I almost ended up dyin' earlier?"
"Well after examination, we found two semi large tears on the inside of your throat and infection has set in."
"Infection?"
"Yes, infection.. we're going to give you another set of antibiotics to help sort that out."
"Muthafucka…"
"It's not the end of the world Mr. Jones, just take the dosage as prescribed and everything will be alright.."
"Yeah says tha guy who neva had fangas shoved down his throat."
"Whatever it is that you do in your personal life is your business."
I hope he wasn't serious..
C'mon man! Get your ass up! You got this prick right where you want him!
Don't you fucking see that I'm trying!? I look over at an exhausted Thomas and we lock eyes as the both of us try to get to our feet. He slugs me with a punch, it's not his best shot or either by this point, all the adrenaline that's pumping through my body has made me numb.
I tag him with a punch of my own that leans him back a bit but he returns fire with another punch that dazes me. I recover though and sock him again.
Fuck! This bitch ass muthafucka!
My eyesight is blinded momentarily from Thomas' thumb being jammed into it. I furiously rub at my eyes, trying to clear my vision. When I finally do, Dylan is charging at me with ill intentions.
Watch out!
Fuck this, I'm going for broke. Whatever Dylan had planned, didn't go through as I stand tall with him over my shoulders.
Fuck him up!
I can't waste time… I need to end this now.. Spinning Thomas around my shoulders, I drop him face-first into my knee.
Now!
Thomas staggers back a bit as I move in for the kill. Quickly spinning him around, pulling him in and cracking him with a headbutt so hard that I see stars myself. Thomas dropped to his knees, out of it as I hold onto his arms.
Destroy him!
I do just that, while holding onto his arms, I drive my knee into his face so hard that Thomas pops up to his feet and stumbles backwards and falls off of the platform!
Oh shit!
I watch on helplessly as Thomas falls almost twenty feet behind the entrance set.. The fall wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be as something breaks his fall.
You could've killed him!
Who gives a fuck?
Umm… I look down at an unconscious Thomas. I don't mean to interrupt but how the fuck are we gonna get down from here?
Exactly! I told you to not climb up here..
Fuck all of that! He was trying to get away, we needed to act! Just like now.. Jump!
Jump!?
Aww hell naw, I'm not jumping down from up here..
You wanna be a champion don't it?
Yeah, but….
But nothing, stop being a bitch and jump!
He's gonna get us killed!
Thomas didn't die!
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" I say to myself as I look down at Dylan who shows a bit of life as he moves.
I look out at the cheering Dallas fans who are encouraging me to put it all on the line.
Fuck them, this is your match to win! Go for it!
"Aight… fuck it…" I say to myself as I near the edge and line Thomas up before taking a leap of faith.
This was totally a bad idea…
Indeed it was..
Best fucking shit that has ever happened.
With a loud boom, I drive my elbow into Dylan's chest! After a moment, the sound of a bell being rung breaks me from my tunnel vision and I hear the Dallas fans going bezerk. Medical personnel come rushing towards the both of us, making sure that we're fine.
We're not.
But I can't go out like a bitch on pay per view so I stand up, at least as much as my body will allow as I'm handed my newly won North American Championship!
I stare at, then over at the downed Thomas who's still being checked on. Raising the title high into the air, the energy from the fans, along with my still pumping adrenaline gives me the strength to stand tall for the last time before heading to the back.
Where I black out..
…
..
.
Two days had passed and I find myself stuck in Parkland Memorial Hospital. Not the ideal place to celebrate a title win but hell it was worth it. All of my life, I had never been too fond of hospitals, I never felt like they saved anyone. They couldn't save my mother from cancer and they damn sure haven't saved me from the voices.
C'mon, you know you love us..
Keep thinking that.. but at this moment, it seemed that the hospital was a better getaway than any motel room.. and seeing as I finally got a week off to recover from all of my injuries.
My phone buzzes, catching me by surprise.. it's a text from Jaiden Rishel..
[Say bud, just so you know, you've been booked in a hardcore match tonight against Sean Fuller..]
"Hol' up.." I state with anger as I stare at the message. So I reply..
[Don't know if you caught the GCWA pay per view, Homecoming but I'm in pretty bad shape right now, don't think I can make it.]
I press send and continue to watch highlights on Sports Center of the Dallas/Green Bay game. Never liked either team but it's the first inkling of sports that I've seen all year, outside of wrestling that is..
"Damn dat boy runnin' all ova' em.." I say out loud in reference to #33, the running back for the Packers. Then I hear that his last name is Jones as he's shown running his fourth and final touchdown. "Jones huh? Hell we might be related somehow.."
My phone buzzes again.
[We really need you here, you know that you're one of my top draws and I'll be damned if I give any refunds because you no showed!]
"Dis muthafucka…" I say, shaking my head.
[Aight.. l'll be there..]
Just as I press send on the message, I begin searching for my clothes so that I can get dressed. The I.V. that's placed in my arm makes the experience a pain in the ass..
With my shirt hanging halfway off of my body, I search around for a cotton ball. I've seen enough needles taken out of my mother's arm to know the proper way to remove the needle stuck inside of my skin. I finally locate one inside of jar in a cabinet and proceed to take care of business. I didn't have the steadiest of hands.. it had been a couple of days since I burned one so I wasn't at top notch condition. But I'm still able to remove the needle, using the cotton ball to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. At that moment, the door swings open as a nurse is making her rounds.
"Umm… excuse me but what are you doing?" She questioned with a stern look of concern.
I definitely didn't think this through but duty calls.
"Yeah…. So…. I'm not gonna be able ta stay any longa.. I gotta job ta get too."
"But we still have more test to run, you're throat as some serious damage and we need to make sure that we do everything in our power to help you."
I don't even consider it.
"Yeah.. no… see I kno' how shit work in these types'a places. I ain't nobody's guinea pig any mo'.." I walk up to her and hold my arm out with the cotton ball still applied to the puncture. "You mind helpin' me out wit dis though?"
She obliges and pulls some tape from her scrubs, wrapping it around my arm.
"This is so against protocol.."
"Just tell em, ya came ta check on me an' I was gone.."
Which I was as soon as she was done with the tape.
So you're just going to walk out and not get treatment?
Naw… fuck that.
I don't care about the treatment either but are you seriously jumping because he said so?
Maybe so… maybe not… I only felt loyal to the brand and its fans. I never wanted to let any of them down. I mean, it's the place where Duce Jones became Duce Jones… Those people made me and if I owe anyone a show, it's the fans..
Man fuck those punk ass fans! We do this shit for us, not them. If you keep making decisions based off how they respond.. then you might as well cut our career short.
I ain't tryna hear all of that, Jaiden just better know that his day is coming real soon.. now to book a last minute flight..
Later that evening, I awoke in the Adventist Medical Center… Fuller has caught me with a solid chair shot to the face earlier that evening, knocking me out cold. How long I had been out was far beyond me.. The morphine drip attached to my arm had me feeling things that I've never felt before as my body was calm and relaxed.
I was trying to make sense of it all.. maybe I should've just said fuck it and let the show suffer without my appearance. But that shit just wasn't in my blood.. Wasn't no freebies when it came to me, well maybe a few if I were to be honest.
I still hadn't gotten a clear answer on what exactly happened.. The last thing I remember was that it felt like I was being suffocated… However the thing was that, I had another match coming up and I'd be damned if I let this bullshit keep me out. If you haven't heard yet, they call me 'The Kid that Never Dies'.. because I refuse to stay down so much that it's probably going to be the death of me but at least I'll die doing something that I love.
I promotional video pops up on the television screen advertising this Friday's Inferno, my match against Lightning is mentioned. I giggled a bit because of recollections of him and his partner, Thunder's debut promo where they just yelled out their names.
"Hahaa, those guys are hilarious… THUNDER! LIGHTNING!" I yell in a mimicking voice before laughing aloud again which then leads to a vicious cough. "Fuck… my throat mane…"
You know, if this was a couple of weeks ago, I'd probably look at this match as an easy victory but the shape and condition that I'm in.. Lightning could probably rub his feet against the mat hard enough to build up enough static electricity to drop me with his pinky..
I'd still get up but I'm at a disadvantage is all I'm saying.. The nerve wracking creak of the door opening just about drives me bonkers and the head doctor walks in.
"Mr. Jones, how are you feeling?"
"I'm good, throat soar a lil bit.."
"I'm sorry to hear that but we have some antibiotics prescribed for you when you leave.."
"Cool, so what's tha news doc? Why I almost ended up dyin' earlier?"
"Well after examination, we found two semi large tears on the inside of your throat and infection has set in."
"Infection?"
"Yes, infection.. we're going to give you another set of antibiotics to help sort that out."
"Muthafucka…"
"It's not the end of the world Mr. Jones, just take the dosage as prescribed and everything will be alright.."
"Yeah says tha guy who neva had fangas shoved down his throat."
"Whatever it is that you do in your personal life is your business."
I hope he wasn't serious..
