Post by Savage on Oct 17, 2019 23:29:23 GMT -6
Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico
14 October 2019 0837 hours local time
Damn, big bro. When you said you wanted to hang out with me, do some catching up, I thought along the lines of cold beer on your bass boat.
Yeah, well, little bro, I've got a catch for you that's better than any fucking fish. Why you think I requested you to come off the line in Syria and help me deal with this shit?
The square jaw with the salt and pepper hair; that's my older brother and second in command for Savage Solutions' field operation division, Nathan Savage Jr. Nathan's been handling our business down in Latin America for the last couple years, helping the Mexican army root out parimilitaros operating on behalf of the Estrada cartel. We've been picking apart their organization the Federales' help, and raking in the plunder along the way. He's got this covered, which makes me wonder...
Why the flying FUCK am I here?
My plate is full right now. My wife is finishing up her chemo, my inbox is cluttered with emails, and to top it all off, I'm beginning the transition back to the squared circle after months out of commission. I can't just fly on a whim and enjoy a romp through old Mayan jungles. Of course, Nate always waits until the last minute to explain shit to me.
Dunno. Help you find a cheap weed hook up or confirm your bullshit fake identity to get your latest venereal disease treated so they don't mail the bill to your house for your wife to see?
Nate turns around, scowling. I made you do that ONE TIME, and you still hold that shit over my head. Like you should talk; I ain't the only one hiding medical paperwork from family. Seriously, Tony, you didn't think I wouldn't find out you're getting back to wrestling again?
Fuck me! I keep forgetting he's in charge of approving all our operator's paperwork, including mine.
Yeah, "boss", the fucking doc from GGW...CWG...
GCWA...
I give two shits what alphabet soup acronym it's called, man. They called to request your medical files from us and the Department of Defense. You made a practicing physician for a wrestling company nearly gag by looking at your dossier.
Like it's any different from what they see in other wrestler's files...
He commented this was the first time he dealt with a wrestler with fuckin' BOMB SHRAPNEL still embedded in his foot. You've been shot so many times, Tupac Shakur called from the grave and told you to cool it with the gunplay.
The hell are you complaining about? You know I'm downgrading my role deployment wise in the company. Hell, you've been griping your graying ass off about me needing to spend more time with the family...
And what? Go through that shit you went through in those other fly-by-night fucking federations. You've got it made right now. Savage Solutions is being avalanched by revenue. You've made more money booking missions behind a desk than you've made beating on idiots in face paint with fucktarded monikers...
Because I used said fucktard beating money to invest in this venture. No offense, big bro, but it was me that fronted most of the cash to set up Savage Solutions thanks to the game. We eating good thanks to me burning the candle at both ends back in the day.
And you think going through that shit again's gonna help. Man...*rubs his forehead in frustration* I don't get it...
Why, man? Why?
I thought about that for a moment as I sat down to smoke and check the settings on my rifle's scope. My crew's marching like good little soldier ants conducting their business. Some are shooting off practice rounds, some are checking equipment. Watching the machine I crafted, and all the cogs running smoothly to ensure it works. Working well enough I can finally focus on my other passion.
I gave him an answer embedded in a puff of Winston smoke.
Same reason you fuck side bitches in bulk, you old stomp around; it feels right. The only difference is I'm not doing it also because my wife is an ungrateful gold digger who drives me up a dam wall.
Nate wants to punch me. He pulls back. Last time he tried to blow smoke in my face, he got a new set of dental implants for Christmas.
You ever beat somebody's ass in front of 20k people while they're foaming at the mouth and screaming your name? That shit's up there with good weed and pussy at the same time in the Serenity now department. Shit, I had Nike money. Endorsements...
All because I could go into a ring, smack the fuck out of somebody, and make people watching either laugh, cry, or think. Now THAT, big bro, is power. Power that can't be bought or forced at gunpoint. No other feeling like it...
And in the end, it almost got all sorts of sideways.
Plenty of people to lay blame on concerning what happened to me. From a supposed friend throwing me under the bus repeatedly just to push his agenda, to crew members that bailed on me or lied to my face, to feds collapsing like houses in Florida near a sinkhole. I've been screwed repeatedly.
But part of my self imposed exile from the game is my own fault. When I set out to make the industry change around me, I prospered. When I let it turn me into something I hated, it all went to shit. I lost control, and once that plane starts to spiral, it's hard to steer it the right direction. Made me feel like a pussy for having to bail, but you know what...
Fuck it. Lesson learned. Now, it's time to finally take back control after I learned how to navigate better.
Ahh...so part of this is redemption?
Redemption's useless if the slate isn't wiped clean. I've got a lot to get off the ledger.
Nate understands. We've all got ghosts to exercise. He nods, and hands me a sheet.
Well, since we're about canceling debts, here's the reason I asked you to come to Central America. We found the fat motherfucker, and we're going in tomorrow to turn that little piggy into bacon.
*shocked* You're shitting me...YOU FOUND MENDOZA!!?
The order was straight from the Country's military command. Even had the Defense Minister's signature on it...
By order of The Secretariat of National Defense, Luis Maria Mendoza has been declared a threat to national security, and is now designated as an enemy combatant to the government and people of The Republic. This document is legal certification that SAVAGE SOLUTIONS, LLC, has the full faith and permission of the Mexican government to locate and apprehend this criminal. Also, due to the extraordinary circumstances pertaining to Mr. Mendoza's latest acts of malice and aggression towards our people, if the need arises, SAVAGE SOLUTIONS, LLC, the primary lead on this mission, has...
Complete authorization to use lethal force if needed..they're giving us the greenlight to finally clap this fat, coke slanging motherfucker?
Yup, Tony, if this shithead gives us even a hint of stinkface, we get to pump it full of bullets!
Children on Christmas aren't as fucking giddy as I am right now. This was the same cocksucking toilet bug that tortured me for a week when I was working for Army C.I.D. The same prick that sent gunners to try to kill my dad. Who turned my ex wife against me.
Who tried to take the life of my wife and son!!
I'm getting a murder boner thinking 'bout how hard I'ma kill this dude!
We roll out at dark before he figures out we're coming. He's hidden in some shit pit farm house 20 km from here. Get some rest'; you'll need it.
I don't normally hug, but I couldn't help it. Big brother always got me the best early birthday gifts.
It's almost too perfect a setup. I talk about making things right, and here's the biggest red mark on the ledger to wipe away landing on my lap. When life is good, it is good!
This is definitely a sign that the direction I'm steering towards these days is paying off.
Time to find me a cameraman either ballsy or stupid enough to tag along and film what's about to happen next. I don't care if the censors throw a fit about the content, people need to remember how I rolled. Why my name used to be associated with dread.
It took me nearly a year to remember who I am. The industry and the idiots that infest it have considerably less time to adjust.
We'll continue this after a word from our sponsors. (TBC)
14 October 2019 0837 hours local time
Damn, big bro. When you said you wanted to hang out with me, do some catching up, I thought along the lines of cold beer on your bass boat.
Yeah, well, little bro, I've got a catch for you that's better than any fucking fish. Why you think I requested you to come off the line in Syria and help me deal with this shit?
The square jaw with the salt and pepper hair; that's my older brother and second in command for Savage Solutions' field operation division, Nathan Savage Jr. Nathan's been handling our business down in Latin America for the last couple years, helping the Mexican army root out parimilitaros operating on behalf of the Estrada cartel. We've been picking apart their organization the Federales' help, and raking in the plunder along the way. He's got this covered, which makes me wonder...
Why the flying FUCK am I here?
My plate is full right now. My wife is finishing up her chemo, my inbox is cluttered with emails, and to top it all off, I'm beginning the transition back to the squared circle after months out of commission. I can't just fly on a whim and enjoy a romp through old Mayan jungles. Of course, Nate always waits until the last minute to explain shit to me.
Dunno. Help you find a cheap weed hook up or confirm your bullshit fake identity to get your latest venereal disease treated so they don't mail the bill to your house for your wife to see?
Nate turns around, scowling. I made you do that ONE TIME, and you still hold that shit over my head. Like you should talk; I ain't the only one hiding medical paperwork from family. Seriously, Tony, you didn't think I wouldn't find out you're getting back to wrestling again?
Fuck me! I keep forgetting he's in charge of approving all our operator's paperwork, including mine.
Yeah, "boss", the fucking doc from GGW...CWG...
GCWA...
I give two shits what alphabet soup acronym it's called, man. They called to request your medical files from us and the Department of Defense. You made a practicing physician for a wrestling company nearly gag by looking at your dossier.
Like it's any different from what they see in other wrestler's files...
He commented this was the first time he dealt with a wrestler with fuckin' BOMB SHRAPNEL still embedded in his foot. You've been shot so many times, Tupac Shakur called from the grave and told you to cool it with the gunplay.
The hell are you complaining about? You know I'm downgrading my role deployment wise in the company. Hell, you've been griping your graying ass off about me needing to spend more time with the family...
And what? Go through that shit you went through in those other fly-by-night fucking federations. You've got it made right now. Savage Solutions is being avalanched by revenue. You've made more money booking missions behind a desk than you've made beating on idiots in face paint with fucktarded monikers...
Because I used said fucktard beating money to invest in this venture. No offense, big bro, but it was me that fronted most of the cash to set up Savage Solutions thanks to the game. We eating good thanks to me burning the candle at both ends back in the day.
And you think going through that shit again's gonna help. Man...*rubs his forehead in frustration* I don't get it...
Why, man? Why?
I thought about that for a moment as I sat down to smoke and check the settings on my rifle's scope. My crew's marching like good little soldier ants conducting their business. Some are shooting off practice rounds, some are checking equipment. Watching the machine I crafted, and all the cogs running smoothly to ensure it works. Working well enough I can finally focus on my other passion.
I gave him an answer embedded in a puff of Winston smoke.
Same reason you fuck side bitches in bulk, you old stomp around; it feels right. The only difference is I'm not doing it also because my wife is an ungrateful gold digger who drives me up a dam wall.
Nate wants to punch me. He pulls back. Last time he tried to blow smoke in my face, he got a new set of dental implants for Christmas.
You ever beat somebody's ass in front of 20k people while they're foaming at the mouth and screaming your name? That shit's up there with good weed and pussy at the same time in the Serenity now department. Shit, I had Nike money. Endorsements...
All because I could go into a ring, smack the fuck out of somebody, and make people watching either laugh, cry, or think. Now THAT, big bro, is power. Power that can't be bought or forced at gunpoint. No other feeling like it...
And in the end, it almost got all sorts of sideways.
Plenty of people to lay blame on concerning what happened to me. From a supposed friend throwing me under the bus repeatedly just to push his agenda, to crew members that bailed on me or lied to my face, to feds collapsing like houses in Florida near a sinkhole. I've been screwed repeatedly.
But part of my self imposed exile from the game is my own fault. When I set out to make the industry change around me, I prospered. When I let it turn me into something I hated, it all went to shit. I lost control, and once that plane starts to spiral, it's hard to steer it the right direction. Made me feel like a pussy for having to bail, but you know what...
Fuck it. Lesson learned. Now, it's time to finally take back control after I learned how to navigate better.
Ahh...so part of this is redemption?
Redemption's useless if the slate isn't wiped clean. I've got a lot to get off the ledger.
Nate understands. We've all got ghosts to exercise. He nods, and hands me a sheet.
Well, since we're about canceling debts, here's the reason I asked you to come to Central America. We found the fat motherfucker, and we're going in tomorrow to turn that little piggy into bacon.
*shocked* You're shitting me...YOU FOUND MENDOZA!!?
The order was straight from the Country's military command. Even had the Defense Minister's signature on it...
By order of The Secretariat of National Defense, Luis Maria Mendoza has been declared a threat to national security, and is now designated as an enemy combatant to the government and people of The Republic. This document is legal certification that SAVAGE SOLUTIONS, LLC, has the full faith and permission of the Mexican government to locate and apprehend this criminal. Also, due to the extraordinary circumstances pertaining to Mr. Mendoza's latest acts of malice and aggression towards our people, if the need arises, SAVAGE SOLUTIONS, LLC, the primary lead on this mission, has...
Complete authorization to use lethal force if needed..they're giving us the greenlight to finally clap this fat, coke slanging motherfucker?
Yup, Tony, if this shithead gives us even a hint of stinkface, we get to pump it full of bullets!
Children on Christmas aren't as fucking giddy as I am right now. This was the same cocksucking toilet bug that tortured me for a week when I was working for Army C.I.D. The same prick that sent gunners to try to kill my dad. Who turned my ex wife against me.
Who tried to take the life of my wife and son!!
I'm getting a murder boner thinking 'bout how hard I'ma kill this dude!
We roll out at dark before he figures out we're coming. He's hidden in some shit pit farm house 20 km from here. Get some rest'; you'll need it.
I don't normally hug, but I couldn't help it. Big brother always got me the best early birthday gifts.
It's almost too perfect a setup. I talk about making things right, and here's the biggest red mark on the ledger to wipe away landing on my lap. When life is good, it is good!
This is definitely a sign that the direction I'm steering towards these days is paying off.
Time to find me a cameraman either ballsy or stupid enough to tag along and film what's about to happen next. I don't care if the censors throw a fit about the content, people need to remember how I rolled. Why my name used to be associated with dread.
It took me nearly a year to remember who I am. The industry and the idiots that infest it have considerably less time to adjust.
We'll continue this after a word from our sponsors. (TBC)
