Gang Wars...nothing less! #2

02-00-00

“Eight years ago the man had been a wreck.

Four years ago, he finally felt redeemed.

And today… today would prove to be a mix of both.

''You, uhh... you're letting a little stubble grow back on your chest. It's... nice. Nice.''

Stylez raised an eyebrow and cocked his head her way, but chuckled. He nodded his head and simply went back to the task at hand - measuring laundry soap.

If her noting growth of body hair without jumping him didn't strain her iron will, very little short of “Oh hey, take your pants off and let me measure your cock... but I won't touch it!” would. Liz's brain was on overdrive, going through about twenty thousand scenarios from movies... most involving guns, which she could thank the fever for - but had to chuckle herself... Dillon had no idea what she'd been thinking.

''So, Tide. Nice choice.''

He never had.

''I hear Gain's on sale over at the, uhh... you know, on the corner.''
It was nice.

''So... yeah.''

As far as she knew.

Stylez looked at her and smiled again.

::'Do you REALLY want to have a conversation about laundry detergent?'::

''I, uhh, it's helpful! I'm trying to assist you at washing your... stuff. Shut up,'' she pouted, ''And what's up with your little pose here, Mr. Housewife? Aren't you supposed to be tough and extreeeeeeme?''

'::You don't know tough and extreme until you've battled some of these stains.::

half-jokingly.

::'I'd rather go up against a walking muscle factory twice my size than try to get mustard off my shirt, any day of the week.::

Liz smirked, ''I should actually give some of my friends your number, Stainman. You probably deal with cumstains on a daily basis, and they could use tips.''

If you're wondering why the two have to repeatedly burn one another to get into any form of serious conversation, you aren't alone. You're also never going to get an answer.

Stylez laughed, partly at Liz's mincing words and partly at his forthcoming response. '

::Whatever... you love that shit. If you didn't, I wouldn't have to keep making it.::

''You must be storing a boatload then, because it's pretty clear that neither of us have gotten near anything related to the subject for months,''

she snipped, folding a few shirts of his before starting up the stairway with one half of their laundry load, making sure Stylez would follow.
She continued with a slight disdain in her tone, ''I sleep in the guest room, and you've still got your five favorite ladies to keep you company nightly. Speaking of nights... I'm incredibly bored, and I've barely seen any of the sights for the last eight months. Ahem...''

Stylez followed her up the stairs, realizing that she had a point. As far as being a model ''boyfriend'' was concerned, he was far from... well, model. Unfortunately for the people that Stylez surrounded himself with, they always found out quickly that he was a man of many pursuits, and there was always something that kept his mind in the clouds. He was not oblivious to this, and what Liz saw in a man who time and time again failed to fully be there for her, was a subject he would never fully grasp. 'Some questions are better left unanswered,' he mused in his head.

'::You know I hate to keep you in that guest room, I wish I could spend more time with you, especially in the evening... but I don't get much time for sleep these days. Holding down this profession is tough, but those bastards at the promotion lost without me...::

''You're the lost one. Whether it's at that god damned 'promotion' or in a ring.''

Liz had dropped the clothes basket and turned on her heel to face Stylez before she continued,

''Your passion for a profession belongs in wrestling, but you're tossing it away and accepting second best just because you don't feel like investing too much emotional stamina back into it.''

She scoffed, ''I haven't seen you truly passionate about anything since I've been back here, and that's a complete 180 from the man you once were. You might've been a dick, but you had a purpose and a vision. Now, you're just walking around hoping something nice gets tossed your way.''

'::I DO have a purpose and a vision, Liz...And it's not just being the US champion!::

It was always simply a matter of time before Liz tried to bruise his ego, but it was never something he could get used to, '

"chance will always be there. You ALSO have a chance to see the world, compete and travel with... well... with someone you hopefully care about. Your career shouldn't amount to just grabbing my ass once a week, Johnny.''

::What do you want from me, Liz? Are you asking for the Johnny Stylez of old to return? I'll admit, he was entertaining as hell to watch, but...::

Johnny exhaled sharply. This was a subject that often came up among people who knew him well, and it was never easy to discuss.

::...it never made me happy. Sure, I was good, and I KNEW I was good, but I was ultimately unfulfilled.IM taking what i get now!::

The little blonde let all of her weight fall onto one of Johnny's leather sofas. Her back needed rest after carrying even such a tiny weight up the stairs, and her mind was much worse for wear with the subject at hand.

She sighed deeply, ''I want you to be who you are, but passionate because that is who you are. The real Johnny Stylez is a happy medium between the jerkoff I knew five years ago and the shell of a man I know now. I occasionally see it... like on Valentine's Day. That was ballsy. It was you. This 'I'm torn between humanitarian work and my life's first real passion' bullshit is way too emo, and way too dramatic. It's not who I see, and I know that who I see is a closer version to who you are than what you see when you look in the mirror. You need to decide on something. If you came back to wrestling just to "help others", I will make it my one goal to get you fired because, quite honestly, if you're gonna half-ass it like this... you don't deserve your job.''

Those last words ate at Johnny's soul. Liz knew just how to tear into the man, like a cold and calculating predator who had softened up her prey before delivering the final blow. But unlike the usual sort of Liz's attacks, this wasn't malicious. It wasn't even mean. She was right, and Johnny knew it.

He was all too prone to getting caught up in his own life, always believing that he was doing the right thing, no matter how bad it felt doing it. Up until now, this was no exception. But the girl he cared so deeply for was returning the favor by letting him know that he was not the man she had given up her life for. Not even close. Not even at all.

::Liz...::

::I don't know whether to laugh or cry. But you're right... this... this isn't me.::

The admission actually gave Liz chills. From her position on the couch, she looked up to make a gentle sort of eye contact with him, ''How can I help you find what is you?''

::Putting up with my bullshit is quite enough, But I think I'm going to have to figure this one out on my own. Up until thirty seconds ago my life made a little more sense... this is going to take some time to mull over.::

Johnny then returned the eye contact. He could see that she truly did care about his well-being. And this was the sort of thing he lived for... at one time there had been so much fire in both of their souls, so much so that they often couldn't help but pour it into each other in the form of tearing each other apart. But once they survived those conflicts (and looking back, Johnny realized they always did), it always brought them closer together. This was no exception.

::If you really want to help... just don't relent on those world-famous swift kicks to the ass. Sometimes my head stays a little too long in the clouds, I guess.::

''Can do,'' she smiled, turning to sit up on the sofa and look through one of the bay windows Johnny had left uncurtained, in true lazy fashion

''While you think on it, I think I'm gonna go for one of those sunset walks on the beach alone, like you see in Dashboard Confessional videos."

::And you call me the emo one...::

rolling his eyes.

::But still, if you want to get a good look at sand, you can't beat the beaches. I'll take you out when you get back though. I need a break...::

::...and I need you there with me.::

[color=white]With Liz now exploring the magnificence of a sunset overlooking the beaches, Johnny had some time to sort through the now almost-maddening quagmire racing through his head.

“…the shell of a man I know now…”

The words kept playing and replaying through his mind. His initial reaction upon hearing them was rage. How could she say that? She doesn’t know a damn thing about me. I’ve come so far since those days… I’m a better person now, dammit!

But the more the words ran through his head, the more they sunk in. And the more he realized there was at least a semblance of truth to them.
Was it possible to be both completely right and completely mistaken all at once?

February, 2000.

Johnny hated this time of year. It was so damn gray, for one thing. Year after year, which brought one gray February after another, Johnny began to understand why so many cultures valued the sun so much...

worshipping it to no end. It was extremely difficult to stay motivated and chipper about life when you haven’t seen the sun for what seems like weeks on end.

But this February was the grayest of all. Not so much because of the weather... it was quite nice actually, being Johnny’s first winter spent away from Boston, where the temperature was always nice enough to hover around sixty degrees and the grayness that was there to greet him every morning came in the form of the infamous marine layer fog, which always dissipated just after noon, revealing the bluest sky he had ever gazed upon. Funny how you make home seem a little better then it actually is, huh?

But this year the grayness had made a point to follow him from home and took residence inside his soul. This was the year that Jane, the girl he’d known since he was ten and knew he was going to marry since he was 15 might as well have sliced his heart from his chest and stomped it into oblivion.

The two had been inseparable since high school, and neither gave a second thought to the fact that they would attend the same college after that. There was no real talk of marriage – they were simply too young – but they both knew that life didn’t make sense without them being at each other’s side. At least, Johnny knew it. But as the tragic case often is with young love, one day Jane no longer returned the sentiments. He could feel her growing colder and more distant by the day, until he finally called her on it, and proverbial... axe cleaved their relationship in two. The coming weeks saw Johnny take a turn for the absolute worst, with utter despondence claiming such control of his life that it replaced his hope – the hope that until then had defined his very existence. But just like when Pandora opened the box that released all the evil and despair into the world, a glimmer of hope remained. Even if Jane didn’t love him anymore, she was still the most important person in the world, and he could still hardly imagine life without her. So begrudgingly, Johnny was able to accept his new role in her life, and was even able to shake the hand of her new boyfriend without punching him in the throat. Granted, the lyrics from “Separate Ways” by Journey constantly blared through his head, but it was a start. It was beginning to look like he might make it through this after all. Perhaps there was hope to be had after all.

But then came that terrible, unforgivable day. The day that Johnny Stylez walked away from the hopes, dreams and aspirations of his former life.
It was on that day that Johnny was born.

It was a Wednesday. Johnny had just returned home from the middle of what he liked to refer to as “Hell Week.” Another one of the things Dillon loved about February was the tendency that professors had to conspire together to make all of their tests, papers and assignments due within roughly the same week-long period just after Valentine’s Day. That day alone saw Johnny somehow survive a Modern Survey of Europe and British Literature exams, as well as a five-hour excursion to the library to frantically research and write a fifteen page paper on Herbert Hoover’s role in the Great Depression. There was far more work to be done, but Johnny was in desperate need of some time to unwind.

Throwing his backpack at the couch with force that surprised even him, johnny reached to open his roommate’s door, but was greeted with the click and resistance of the locked variety. That’s odd, Johnny thought. He never locks his door… not even when he’s masturbating…

Johnny knocked on the door. “Hey Sam? Why’d you lock the door?”
“Go away!” came a somewhat muffled reply.

“Whatever dude, I just want my pot… today sucked more than you can imagine. Let me in so I can get it.”

“I SAID FUCKING GO AWAY!” Sam responded, still muffled but definitely louder.

“Sammy, if you don’t give it to me I’m going to break your door down. What’s your fucking problem?!”

Johnny pressed his ear up the door and heard a muffled conversation between Sammy and a slightly higher-pitched voice. Probably some stupid bitch he’s banging, Johnny thought. He’s being the bitch though…

Johnny didn’t give it a second thought. He jiggled the already somewhat loose door handle one more time, just in case Sammy had somehow thought to have it repaired in the last fifteen seconds. Noting that A) he hadn’t, shortly before B) such a feat was impossible, johnny brought down a crushing axe kick on the poor, unsuspecting doorknob, gouging a huge crack in the wooden door but more importantly, removing the knob’s locking capabilities. He reached in to grab the baggie sitting on Sammy’s desk when he saw the face of the “stupid bitch” in bed with Sammy.

Stupid bitch indeed.

It was Jane.

The next few moments were a blur for Johnny. What little he remembered came to him in brief flashes; Sammy on the ground with blood trickling out of his nose… Jane staring at him with tears ready to pour out of her beautiful, unforgivable eyes, making only the noises of choked up sobs… the song “Is this Love?” by Whitesnake softly playing in jonny’s room as he quickly burst out of his apartment, a song that to this day johnny still shudders to hear. But what he remembered distinctly is that when he stepped out into the beautiful February sunset, things had never been more gray.

Johnny never set foot in that apartment again. He also never attended another class after that day. And with nothing to occupy his mind but to replay over and over how hard he’d been screwed by his two best friends, he found himself on the losing end of the battle to quell his depression. Anger and despair would have consumed a lesser man. But somehow, Dillon was able to channel those emotions into something positive. Normally not a man to seek the spotlight, johnny found an outlet for those feelings in wrestling. The loud, crass Johnny stylez was fueled by the emotions of a scared young man, desperate to be loved and all too willing to escape to an alternate reality outside the cruel world... a reality where good guys fought bad guys to the delight of a fiercely loyal fanbase.
It wasn’t until he met Liz that he was able to let go of those feelings, and re-discover the world outside again…

02-00-00

PRT. 2

Present Day.

But that was years ago, Johnny thought to himself as he leaned forward on the footstool he was sitting on. And here I am again, back in this business.

It was never easy for Johnny to think back on that terrible day, even after so many years had passed. But it was that day that had fueled his entire career, and gave him the passion he had for competing in the ring.
And Liz was right. If he couldn’t have the kind of passion that he’d had during the original johnny run, he had no business coming back. Being good enough was one thing; and Johnny certainly was. For all his talk of being part of the old guard, the new guard – the young, hungry up-and-comers desperate to make a name for themselves in this business – had so far fallen hard before him. But with a main-event match against the very best WWA had to offer, being good enough wouldn’t cut the mustard… even the mustard staining his poor shirts. He had to want it, more than anything else, and know that the opportunity belonged to him and no one else... not even to the team of hells henchmen::

Johnny hadn’t heard Liz return from the beach, but definitely sensed it in the form of the gentle embrace he now felt from behind.

“Get some thinking done?”

::You could say that.::

“Care to enlighten me?”

::Like I said Liz, I know you’re right, There’s no place in this business for people who don’t live it and breathe it. And there’s no place for me specifically except to be the one true Johnny Stylez. But…::

Johnny sighed again.

“But?” came Liz’s reply.

::But I really was a different guy back then. I was angry, and stupid, and scared, and a whole slew of other emotions that I just don’t feel anymore. I was never any good at playing characters, Liz… if I was, I would have gone into acting. I’m just me… and I’m not that guy any longer.::

“Look,” Liz said after a beat, spinning him around to face her. “You love me, right?”

::What?::

Liz rolled her eyes. “Oh God, big bad Testicules is afraid of the L-word… umm, fine, you CARE about me, right?”

::I suppose so,:

“Well I love Johnny Stylez! I mean, he’s not the man I care about, obviously… but I love watching him, just being around him, and more than anything... I love knowing the man behind that man. Say what you will about being angry, but I know you got a lot of joy out of being that Johnny on camera. There’s no reason you can’t find that joy again.”

Johnny said nothing, but the look he gave her conveyed that he remained skeptical. Liz continued.

“I watch you now and I see a man simply going through the motions. You feel like you’re old news, and it shows. You’re not OLD Johnny, so stop acting like it! Make an ass of yourself out there like you used to, and make asses out of those idiots that could never hold your jock. Be the johnny that I remember, the one that people pay to see and can’t stop talking about.”

“One way... or another,”

Liz said, pushing his shoulders as if to inspire some fight in him. He smiled not at the gesture, but at the words she used... the words of one of Johnny favorite catch phrases.

::One way... or... another It’s time for a change.::

Before I say word one, I have to get a disclaimer out.

He holds his hand up, motioning for the viewer to maintain patience.

This is a different company than what I came to. I know this. What that means, though, is that I have to reintroduce myself to the masses who haven't had the chance to meet me before.
He clears his throat.

I am the man that carried this company on my back when nobody else could. I'm the man that went out of his way to make sure this company did nothing but flourish. For those who came from the promising promotions all over the world... I'm the man that your champions prayed to God above that he could be. For those of you who came from the independant federations, I'm that mother fucker that laid the ground work for underpaid compainies to follow for survival.
For those of you who just ain't been from anywhere... I'm the guy you're gonna get booked against, who's gonna' steamroll over your ass because that's what I do. Some of you may find yourselves believing you got what it takes... that's cute because I respect that sort of ambition. Some of you may find yourselves demoralized and a little bit on the sad side, and that's cool because I'll give you a consolatory hug and take it a bit easy on you.

I'm the US Undisputed Champion who has MADE that mother fuckin' title... along with that mother fuckin' division.

I'm that Sultan of the Squared Circle that told every living human being on the planet that if they wanted to get at me and my belt... all they had to do was sign the dotted and there it was.

He grins an annoying grin.

And how cocky and egotistical I am is going to irritate the fuck out of you.

That's mainly because I've never not backed up every... little... single... solitary... thing I say.

He shrugs.

Bottom line, I'm World fucking Class. I am the man who built the throne of WWA, and I guess it's safe to say...
The King is taking his rightful place!

He chuckles.

Now... y'all who know, know I've been King since before The WWA was JWF. We got that all clear? I mean... I could go on and on about me all day, but there's a few more things on my mind tonight... and I need to tell the whole lot of you, just what that is.

His smirk fades away.

Since I came, the WWA has changed. Friendships crushed... talent gone... titles worthless.

Everybody wants to play a bag guy. Too bad there's only one.

People seem to think that Johnny Stylez wants to run the WWA into the ground. That Johnny Stylez wants to 'rid' this place of it's shinning stars. That Johnny Stylez... wants to END... the WWA.

Licking his lips... he continues.

Truth is... it's already finding ways to do that to itself. Your leaders... your followers... your marks. All a ploy to shield your eyes of each and every single thing that is going on right in front of you. Taunting you with each of its precise moves. I'm not here to kill the wwa... no... I'm here to kill what the WWA has become.

But in the mean time... I got other fish that need fryin'.
And if there's anybody around here that smells like rotten tuna, that'd be my opponents for Gang Wars!

Yes, sir... these cats that I just couldn't be more irritated with his shit talkin'.

He shakes his head.

From the very moment I met folks on the Hell's henchmen team, I didn't get along with them!
they heard shit about me. I heard shit about all of them. We found ourselves facing off indirectly from all the similarities people would throw in our faces. Hell some of the cats on there team had the title of being 'the best' and I took that shit off of them and COME GANG WARS, iM GOING TO SHOW THE WORLD WHO IS THE BEST. they dont like it, but they'll get over it I guess... I never really cared to ask. Last I seen... the hells henchmen was runnin' the map!

That reminds me, Beast. I thought you worked solo!

He rolls his eyes.

From the moment you met me, you cats, you've been stuck in my shadow.

Some would never face me.

Some of you cats never managed to do any damage to me....Beast....

You've never even had what it took to make yourself matter to me, Henchmen!

You've all since challenged me, tried to give me pep talks about what being an WWA Wrestler is all about, and through it all... the story remains the same, don't it? There goes ol' Hells henchmen with the stick stuck up there asses, because they can't stand the one guy that is leaps and bounds better than all of them.

He sneers.

Well, Henchmen here I am in all my glory. Fresh off my vacation... fresh with my US title run that has since broken recordes... fresh as hell... and I'm here to put my boot in the ass of the team of guys who's been shittin' on my name since I walked in on this ppv!

Stylez laughs.

There you all are, with your little crayon-colored Henchmen signs... your little chairs... and you're telling the world that Hells henchmen IS the most powerful team the WWA has seen. Here you all are... a employees, signed to wrestle in an wrestling ring against the man who you hate oh so much in me... and you're doin' what about it?

Ah.

Whinin'.

He scoffs.

You wanna talk about Johnny Stylez being the bastard of the WWA...then run the add. I've never shyed away from any action I've commited... and I damn sure ain't gonna' do it now. Not for the hells henchmen... not for the WWA... not for... MYSELF.

You say Johnny Stylez isn't a man the some folks want... and I say thank GOD for that!

He tenses his muscles, growing more and more angry.

The world knows how you are, the team of hells henchmen. They know that if you don't have guys like KAOS, or Steven watchin' your back to carry a company... you folks got nothing! You all can talk about being 'Unbreakable?' or in beast old gimmick "Unbeatable" but The last time you ever sat on top of a company that wasn't in the red, the Twin Towers were still standin' and people were stressin' over what the Y2K virus was gonna do.

Moral of the story, Hells henchmen?

You're all the epitome of washed up.

He smirks again.

Look at all of you. So rusty I'm scared to wrestle you without gettin' a tetanus shot. For such a quote unquote great legendary performer like you, all clamed to be... all you cats keep sayin' is 'I'm pathedic', 'that sucks', 'you suck'.

Shit, dude... lookin' at the big picture, it's no wonder I stole the lights from all of you. Everything about me overshadows you all. No wonder you henchmen hate me so damn much. It's a shame you let yourself get to this point, all of you. It's a damn shame you never stopped.

You all are exemplify the type of wrestlers that people shake their heads at. They remember that style of performing... that high quality of the workrate you used to have. Now, all they see you cats doin' is complainin' like a crotchety old men who ain't had his pills and sponge bath yet.

You're exactly the reason I'm running the show around here! To sheild it from people like you cats who have brainwashed yourself into the big picture.

Face it, fuckers. You need this.

His smirk fades.

You need to face me. You all need your names to be across from mine in the marquee, because without it... you're all nothin' now. None of the new blood cares about you. Hardly any of the old blood recognizes any of you. But you know me... and you know I remember you.

Without me... you'd all just be sittin' on your front porch, mumblin' about them damn kids throwin' their baseball in your yard.

You all know you're gonna show up, henchmen... you cats know I will as well. I hate the WWA, fuckers. I hate what this place has become. But the WWA is the only place that's gonna give you cats what you desperately need.

Me.

And for now... I'll accept that.

So c'mon, Henchmen. Get your head from your asses and walk your happy asses down to whatever shit song you picked for yourselves this time around... and have a go at the one man you all can't beat in a company that you love.

I know I'll see you fuckers there. I always do. So when you're starin' up at those lights wondering how you found yourself back in the status quo... just remember that infamous catch phrase... and you'll know that I NEVER...

LOOKED SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!

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