Post by Justin Paige on Feb 16, 2024 16:12:25 GMT -6
"Okay so when I hung up the phone last night, you were freaking out about him being back, yeah?" My therapist, Kelsee, ask me while I'm sitting on the worn red leather couch against the wall of her office. "Yes, ma'am, he came and went. Only seemed to show up because I was getting agitated by ol' boy at the bar." I still feel his blood on my face. Kelsee looks at me with concern. "What ol' boy at the bar?" I take a deep breath and let out a deep sigh before I explain to her everything that went down last night. The guy yakking away in my ear, breaking his face, leaving him in the street, everything. When I'm done, she looks at me with confusion. "Justin, there was no one there when the cops showed up. Someone had called them about a guy out punching the street."
Lies
"No, I promise there was." As I lean forward, Kelsee pulls up the report that was made that she got from her stupid cop husband. "There is literally no mention of any such thing. Tom wasn't going to chase you, he saw you take off, saw there was no one around and left. He told me all about it when he got off shift a few hours after you called."
More lies.
"I swear to you...there was a guy. Ask the bar...never mind they were gone. Ask the other guy that was in there." "You mean the guy that was face down in his vomit when Tom went in there? The guy that couldn't recall even coming to the bar or anything that happened since?" I'm guessing the frustration was starting to show as I sat there, balling my hands in a fist over and over. "Perfect example, you said you beat him to a pulp, your hands are not only clean, but they don't have a single scratch on them. If you were hitting him as hard as you said, you'd at least have a bruise or a scratch." My legs are throbbing from restlessness, forcing me to stand up and pace the room. "So you're telling me it was all made up. I just imagined the whole thing." "Other than shadow boxing in the middle of the street, yes. I think we need to adjust your medications." That phrase made my stomach turn and the look of disgust was hard to hide. "Either that or you come stay at the hospital again and we find out what's going.." My palms connect to her desktop as I begin to shake. "I'm not changing medications! At this rate, if he's back, and I'm imagining beating people up and I am...enjoying...it, then I'm just going to find a place where I can legally do that." Kelsee gets a perplexed look on her face, "and where would that be? You're old and broken both mentally and physically! You get back in that ring, who knows if you kill yourself or who ever is in there with you!" "That's the point, Kelsee, no one cares."
That's the spirit
You know what's funny? When I made the call to come back to the wrestling world, I had to list my credentials and be approved. I had to explain why I should be hired. I had to explain to stupid people sitting around a stupid table, who I was and what I've accomplished. They said things like, "Oh you know Aidan Morag then" or "Oh I remember Shadow" "Do you still talk to Nathan Gust?" Fuck you. If you know them, you know me. I made Morag. I was in a feud for almost a year with Shadow and Nathan Gust tore the roof off any and everywhere we had matches. My name and legacy has fallen to the wayside for this stupid business and I don't like it. I used to walk into a room and be greeted with free bottle service and my pick of the women. I used to be on the wrestling podcast. I used to cover the magazines.
How the mighty have fallen.
Now I look around, sure if I was ever here in EWC it would have been it's infancy but the world has changed. Anything I did back then is all-for-not now. You've got 7 different titles? 6 different shows? I have to wrestle on some shitty little show in order to get to the main roster? Me? Justin Paige. An 18 time champion. Who knows who I'll have to face, but who ever it is, will remember my name. They will be the first of many to remember my name. There will be no more documentaries about everyone I made, with no mention of me.
6 different champions.
Call me old fashioned, but 3 titles would be enough. 3 titles held by men. Not some tiny little girl as an undisputed champion. I'm here to dispute the hell out of that. No tiny little girl holding an "Indy title" whatever that is. Just call it the prime title. I'm going to take that as soon as I get the chance. No, this place has fallen to the wayside. 7 titles and 6 champions. That is insane. 25 people on Prime, all going to remember my name. 19 "superstars" on Paramount, will all recognize that I am back in this for a reason. The reason is to bring this place back to where it should be. No little sissies running around with a pretend belt thinking that they are something special. 18 victims on Rampage, 14 on Brawl, all 71 members of the roster here will have to come to terms with an old, broken man, has come back and is taking over. Fuck, I'll even tag myself and take the tag belts. I don't care one bit. All that I need you to know is that I am living proof that you can teach an Old Dog New Tricks.
You will all Remember Me.
Lies
"No, I promise there was." As I lean forward, Kelsee pulls up the report that was made that she got from her stupid cop husband. "There is literally no mention of any such thing. Tom wasn't going to chase you, he saw you take off, saw there was no one around and left. He told me all about it when he got off shift a few hours after you called."
More lies.
"I swear to you...there was a guy. Ask the bar...never mind they were gone. Ask the other guy that was in there." "You mean the guy that was face down in his vomit when Tom went in there? The guy that couldn't recall even coming to the bar or anything that happened since?" I'm guessing the frustration was starting to show as I sat there, balling my hands in a fist over and over. "Perfect example, you said you beat him to a pulp, your hands are not only clean, but they don't have a single scratch on them. If you were hitting him as hard as you said, you'd at least have a bruise or a scratch." My legs are throbbing from restlessness, forcing me to stand up and pace the room. "So you're telling me it was all made up. I just imagined the whole thing." "Other than shadow boxing in the middle of the street, yes. I think we need to adjust your medications." That phrase made my stomach turn and the look of disgust was hard to hide. "Either that or you come stay at the hospital again and we find out what's going.." My palms connect to her desktop as I begin to shake. "I'm not changing medications! At this rate, if he's back, and I'm imagining beating people up and I am...enjoying...it, then I'm just going to find a place where I can legally do that." Kelsee gets a perplexed look on her face, "and where would that be? You're old and broken both mentally and physically! You get back in that ring, who knows if you kill yourself or who ever is in there with you!" "That's the point, Kelsee, no one cares."
That's the spirit
You know what's funny? When I made the call to come back to the wrestling world, I had to list my credentials and be approved. I had to explain why I should be hired. I had to explain to stupid people sitting around a stupid table, who I was and what I've accomplished. They said things like, "Oh you know Aidan Morag then" or "Oh I remember Shadow" "Do you still talk to Nathan Gust?" Fuck you. If you know them, you know me. I made Morag. I was in a feud for almost a year with Shadow and Nathan Gust tore the roof off any and everywhere we had matches. My name and legacy has fallen to the wayside for this stupid business and I don't like it. I used to walk into a room and be greeted with free bottle service and my pick of the women. I used to be on the wrestling podcast. I used to cover the magazines.
How the mighty have fallen.
Now I look around, sure if I was ever here in EWC it would have been it's infancy but the world has changed. Anything I did back then is all-for-not now. You've got 7 different titles? 6 different shows? I have to wrestle on some shitty little show in order to get to the main roster? Me? Justin Paige. An 18 time champion. Who knows who I'll have to face, but who ever it is, will remember my name. They will be the first of many to remember my name. There will be no more documentaries about everyone I made, with no mention of me.
6 different champions.
Call me old fashioned, but 3 titles would be enough. 3 titles held by men. Not some tiny little girl as an undisputed champion. I'm here to dispute the hell out of that. No tiny little girl holding an "Indy title" whatever that is. Just call it the prime title. I'm going to take that as soon as I get the chance. No, this place has fallen to the wayside. 7 titles and 6 champions. That is insane. 25 people on Prime, all going to remember my name. 19 "superstars" on Paramount, will all recognize that I am back in this for a reason. The reason is to bring this place back to where it should be. No little sissies running around with a pretend belt thinking that they are something special. 18 victims on Rampage, 14 on Brawl, all 71 members of the roster here will have to come to terms with an old, broken man, has come back and is taking over. Fuck, I'll even tag myself and take the tag belts. I don't care one bit. All that I need you to know is that I am living proof that you can teach an Old Dog New Tricks.
You will all Remember Me.
