Title: Cry For The Bad Man
Featuring: Jack Mace
Date: 1/31/22
Location: Home
January 28th, 2022
Grewelthorpe, North Yorkshire, England
“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”
-Albert Einstein
Well, right now, Einstein didn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground.
At least that’s what you were thinking. Now you’re back at home in your quiet cabin back in England. Staring out at a cold, rainy Winter morning just one week removed from your ousting from Better Future Talent Agency, you still got that cracked rib and a concussion to deal with.
This place is nice. You like to come over when you have the chance to come back home and just watch the rain. You do so for hours. You binge a few shows on Netflix. Chop some wood. Fire. Booze. Good times.
But it also leaves you alone with your thoughts. Which isn’t always a good thing. You think a mile a fucking minute.
Maybe for a second… you thought maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. The money was fantastic. You were given a decent cut already when he came back to the main roster and Morrow was able to negotiate for an extra 20% on top of that so you lived well enough in the States.
Oscar Burns left you in the dust. Ryan Batts got to go up, then got sent back to BRAZEN cause he got in a fist fight with Burns and Burns complained to management… but brass thought you needed to lose some pounds. You were trying to do that technical wrestling stuff, but being 330 pounds was not conducive to good health.
You lost sixty pounds while in BRAZEN. Impressed everyone.
But it still wasn’t enough.
But Tom… Tom was the first person to give a shit about you after Burns stopped taking you under your wing and set you free just to fail.
And for a while, all was good…
But when opportunities came, they passed you by cause you cocked up.
You should have seen writing on the wall, you daft cow.
Morrow first brought him you in to take out and replace Oscar Burns after that twat turned him down. You were supposed to be “A Damn Fine Pro Wrestler” and take Burns’ spot… but when that didn’t happen at last year’s DEFCON, you failed.
Then what did you do?
Mess with Pop Culture Phenoms?
Having to help recruit JESTAL? With a rubber fucking chicken?
Having to help the Lucky Sevens with their issues?
Always designated as second to Alvaro de Vargas. Positioned as nothing more than a human shield for that gormless tit. You just kept silent and toko the money and for a long time, that was enough. But when you had title aspirations… or you wanted to go back and show Oscar Burns that you surpassed him… Morrow made you settle a grudge with that little girl, Titaness and Los Tres Titanes for him instead.
Any time you came up to Morrow to pledge to go after a title…
Nah, choke out Titaness instead.
Nah, help the Lucky Sevens against the Saturday Night Specials.
Nah, don’t worry about Burns. He’ll get his someday.
Someday never came.
Weeks upon weeks, you ruffled feathers for Morrow and for a little while that was fun… but fun ran out.
Why did you not just stay as a six-figure computer programmer, you big asshole? You didn’t have to worry about money then.
You had that job.
That job was literally yours. It’s what you originally went to school for… but you turned it down cause you wanted to go off and play wrestler.
You put yourself through two years of shite. Letting Harold Ketch twist your spine into weird shapes to get better. Blowing up early and often. Having to build up stamina. Having to come over to DEFIANCE, win a tournament in BRAZEN to get on the main roster… make no impact… you better yourself in BRAZEN, do it all over again, this time being the asshole people knew you were… and still, you failed.
Morrow pulled the wool over your fucking eyes and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Especially after today.
He went back to the email that he just got an hour ago on his phone.
Work visa?
Expired?
It was that cunt making sure he was safe from retribution. No way that was a fucking coincidence.
Fuck this thing.
The sound of his iPhone being hurled into the koi pond just outside his house echos, sending the fish scattering.
It doesn’t make you feel better at all.
You’re just stuck at home. And now you’re gonna go have to drive into town to get a new one, you daft prick.
…
No.
This won’t be the end.
No way it ends like this.
You’ll find a way to get back to the States.
Because you have to.
You can’t let THAT little worm get the last word.
And when you do?
You’ll make that fucking snake PAY.
Count on it.