[The light flickered into his bloodshot and sleep deprived eyes, as the ceiling fan rotated on it’s swivel... moving ever so slower with each rotation. Lying on the motel bed, it’s technicoloured duvet cover was filled with a mixture of booze, vomit and saliva from it’s occupant.]
[He had been there for three days. Ever since the lost to Kaos]
[The high level of toxins in his system had made it seem like a shorter time than what had actually occurred... the sheer level of alcohol that had been consumed couldn’t be matched by anyone in the local bar.]
[He was comatose, more or less.]
[Stylez closed his eyes and thought of what his life had become… his mind ticked away even though none of his other body parts could properly function, apart from his elbow as he swigged back the latest bottle of cheap Russian Vodka into his invested mouth.]
[Where had it all gone so wrong? Going on a two match lossing streak takes a toll on anyone! 2007 isnt starting the way He has hoped]
[From joining the WWA, to becoming the US Champion under his own terms... his own master-minded scheme which had got him to the top of the US mountain, and from there to the higest peak… where his contract was simple. Come along, wrestle, and be paid more than a small country makes.]
[Life was good. But somewhere along that line, it went wrong. Fate, it seemed, had another plan for Me!]
[And so as he lay in his shabby motel room, his mind barely able to function due to the large traces of tear-crust gluing his eyes shut... he reached for the nearest thing in which would increase his current state. ]
[The bottle of pills rattled, as Stylez eyes opened the widest they had in 72 hours.]
[The former pain-killer addict clutched the bottle in his hand and took a deep breath. He had come to only one conclusion… that his former demon had returned... and was now perched on his shoulder.]
[This wasn't meant to happen. He was the mighty Dillon Durst.]
[He brought the bottle into his eye’s range, as he focused on the hard, small plastic shell. He stared at his memories of the places he had been, the places where he did not want to return... places... which he wouldn’t wish upon his worst of enemies.]
::What am I doing...::
[He popped the cap and closed his eyes, tipping the bottle into his mouth... the number of pills that then followed was unknown to him. So much so, that his head moved to the side as many were spit on the bed covers.]
[The unopened Vodka bottle was next to him... it’s seal cracked, as the fluid powered into his mouth. He swallowed hard, wincing in pain as the materials travelled down his windpipe and into his stomach.]
[All was silent... apart from the bottle of Vodka, which tipped and flowed onto the bed sheets under him. With that, he wished good night to the world around him. Johnny Stylez, a former King among men… now a stranger among ghosts?]
[The End . . .]
[Piece by piece… his life fell apart like a perfectly constructed jigsaw puzzle that was abruptly shaken. One by one… he saw it tumble. His professional life. His personal life. And as he stands here on the frozen mountain of Fuji, he breathes the frigid winter air and is somehow able to exhale with a smile.]
[For a man of his drive and determination, Johnny Stylez could turn the proverbial switch to “on” like no man. However, turning it “off” was another story.]
[In the glitz and glamour of professional wrestling, there are numerous pitfalls in this business. The physical toll inside the ring was just the tip of the iceberg. There was the travel... and then for men like Johnny Stylez, There were the personal demons that haunted him at each and every corner of life. He was a recovering alcoholic and a drug addict. Perhaps the only thing he had pride in at that point, was the fact that he had been clean for almost two years.]
[Each day was a struggle. After a hard match, when the boys would go out for a drink... he’d bit his lip and go back to the hotel room, only to have it circle his mind for the entire night.]
[You’d think a cheap bottle of booze wouldn’t be a big deal, but to an alcoholic, it was temptation. Much like the horse track to a gambler... or a needle to a junkie. Johnny walked the razor’s edge for as long as he cared to remember, until he fell.]
[But getting back to things... Johnny had coined himself The Legacy after performing in matches that were considered highlights, regardless of the outcome. The praise went to his head, and all those around began to notice that his personality began to change, slowly turning Johnny himself... into the actual demon. Even his long time fans began to jeer him. He became more cocky and abrasive. He was no longer the humble and respectful Stylez that entered the halls of JWF before it was WWA! In short, he began to ‘live the gimmick’.]
[Like The Nature Boy Ric Flair, Johnny Stylez began to foolishly live day to day... like it was his last. Never mind that he had a business, a pregnant wife to take care of. He lavishly spent his savings on motorcycles, jewelry, cars and of course… illegal drugs. As if things weren’t bad enough, running weekly shows all across the globe, proved too tempting for even a 'legacy'. He started gambling and lost a large chunk of his savings.]
[Warzone's GM IS furious at his behavior, and the boys backstage lost a lot of respect for their US Champion... if not all of it. He was once considered a badass locker room leader, but then began setting a bad example for everyone. His wife and close friends wanted anything, so long as it had nothing to do with the "Iron Fist." How could he behave like this after he conquered his demons already? He became the one thing that he detested the most. He became a cancer to himself and to everyone around him.]
[But now its time, time to hit the road...This was his road back to redemption... Back to being the best this company has ever saw!]
[One step at a time...Piece by fucking piece!]
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[The ticking of the dangling clock echoes itself throughout the empty hallway...Or was it his mind? Funny how things work out, huh? The slow steady climb to the peak of a rollercoaster only elevates the anticipation of the fall...]
[After which... you are left with nothing... just as you were... with empty hands.]
::A lot of things change when you reach your end. In my case, life didn't flash before my eyes... maybe a few moments. But not in a cinimatical sense. "Clips" of my life didn't race before my eyes, as I relived life one important moment at a time... and just for a mili-second a piece.::
No...
::Everything for me... just turned black. Sloth like voices drug themselves throughout my mind, and before I knew it... there were those empty hands, grasping onto a prize that I no longer held, and clinging to a name, that I no longer had.::
Broken...
::ME at his weakest. With nothing but a can of beer, and a bottle of pills. I'd like to say that I tossed all that behind me... but I would only be lying to myself. In fact, after tonight... I even had plans to meet up in some back alley with a man that I have never... and probably will never... see again.::
::Chances are you know somebody who knows somebody. Or perhaps you just know somebody? Maybe that person is you? For simplicity, we'll keep names out of it, and move this ship right along in the waters in which we are treading.::
Don't do drugs.
D.A.R.E.
::Isn't that funny. Placing a dare upon somebody to pass the message that drugs do you nothing but harm. I must have missed the memo. All the times I've spend alone in dim lit hotel rooms, I always knew where to find the light... if you catch my drift.::
Choices...
Here...
There...
Everywhere...
::You can't shake them. Try... try... try... hell... try some more. It's like a dream where you're running as fast as you can, yet not going anywhere at all.::
A fuckin' treadmill.
::Yeah... that's what my life is now. A fuckin' treadmill. It seems as though no matter how hard I run... I'll never get away. Rags to riches... back to rags. Clean to dirty... to clean... to dirty.::
Will it ever stop?
If I had the answers... I wouldn't be asking... would I?
[The spark of a lighter explodes a beaming light in the darkness. The sound of the burning paper surrounding a cigarette now grabs the viewer's attention. A loud 'click' is heard, as Stylez flips his lighter closed. Silence now... is the only thing that can be heard.]
::Little heads all peep out from behind the bushes when the wolf gets caught in a bear trap, huh boys?::
[There is a dry chuckle that escapes from the smirking mouth of Stylez.]
::Forgive me, I mean no disrespect gentlemen. But I find it quite funny how my name has seemingly lifted you all from the drowning waters you were all in, all for standing up for a federation that half of you know nothing about. Nobody remembers when I WAS TOSSED OFF A FUCKING BRIDGE FOR THE US TITLE, after taking it from one "Untouchable" individual... yet he leads this charge of moral degrading? All Warzone has is nothing but a bunch of pussies running around just looking to get fucked! take Hot Stuff! Please a hack if I aint ever saw one! Open up wide now like a good little boy should, Steve, it seems to be the only thing you're good at these days.::
[The eyes of Stylez flutter a little, as he takes a slight drag from his burning cigarette.]
::Look at me... getting all ahead of myself here. I should be starting at the bottom, scratching the names off one at a time until I reach the top...::
KAOS...brings me back to you bra!::
[Stylez shakes his head side to side in a playfull manner, taking one last hit from his smoke, as he tosses it to his side... never once worrying where it would land.]
::I know the name of your game, kid. Toss out the big name, and more people will listen... am I right? Hell, when I first hit the scene in the big time... I tried the same shit. It ended up making me a better man, after I was put in my place.::
the real fallen angle... right?
::Forgive me... but more often than not... less important matters escape my mind. Like a slow downward spiral... I mean well and all... it's just... ya know... your name compared to mine is like a Huffy bicycle to a Jesse James hand crafted chopper... ya dig? You have a long road to travel before you can even begin slip one of my boots on, none-the-less try and walk a mile in them. One thing you'll soon learn through your travels in the WWA, is that it gets pretty cold when you're out there on your own. So make sure you bundle up there big boy... it gets awfully cold in my shadow. Stop bitting my longest regin as a champion giimick and get your own! Cuz as far as Im concerned pay back for monday is a bitch!::
[Stylez stands from his setting position, as a crack from the wooden chair releases, being relieved of his frame.]
::Like it or not... this is my home. This is where I belong. I was raped of it... sold out... and beaten while I lay helpless.::
No longer...
::No longer will I stand back and smile at the utter bullshit that comes flying from each and every single one of your mouths. In case you've forgotten... this is my Kingdom. Don't like that, Beast? or Hot stuff? Fuckin' deal with it, or tell me another story about a traveling Jap.::
Jesus...
::You can't really be the champion again...::
::Soften the seat of my throne up, will ya... and take that stupid fuckin' halo off your head, because...::
[Stylez pauses for a moment, licking his lips slowly as he does so.]
::After I win the over the eddge rumble...Im taking what should have always been mine! This is where heaven stops, and hell begins...::
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January 5th 2007, 4:34 pm