Im starting to enjoy this

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"An in-ring promo? Chuck…this is the Hall of Fame show, a night dedicated to Joe Santiago. You don’t treat it like shit. This isn’t American Idol, the public could give a rats ass about ‘house shows’ You know what type o people entertain house show crowed. The younger guys, the guys still trying to get notice. And guys who are getting desperate. That would be you Chuck. Your doing everything you can to gain some sort of edge, your putting in a work load your not used to doing. And here I am, shitting all over your pieces of art."

"You fight the facts only to get blindsided by reality. Since you love hyping Salvation so much bring Cyrus to the ring with you. They can look on from the apron hitting it with their hands as I take you out one at a time. Bring your best game with you to that ring, kid. Bring all the support you need. The only thing I need is myself, the DVD moment. Those are the only things I need when it comes to wrestling. I used to need others, but that was only to get me to the top. Then they all go rapidly down hill. Once Cyrus gets what he wants out of you, you will be sent packing. Do you honestly believe Brenton is in it for the long haul? Because he’s not, and I got the proof right here:

‘I’m looking for new entrance music…’

"Why would the leader of Salvation be quoted looking for new entrance music?"

‘For After Salvation’

"His words not mine Chuck."

‘Cause you never know’

"Again his words, Now Chuck why would he even think this? I mean Salvation is riding high. Holding every championship there is to offer. You and Cyrus are a tag-team, yet his words stare you in the face. Almost warning you about what’s to come. If you ask me, your relationship with Cyrus is more shaky then the rip between Tails and I. "

"You dig your own grave Chuck, I sit here watch you bang your head against a wall, just to get anything out there. Anything that would make you look like a valuable champion. Instead you end up defeating yourself. Feeding me everything I need. "

"That is the weakness to the Salvation army. Your proof positive."

"As for your whole game plan coming into this match looking for an opening, to cheat, to become the ultimate opportunist. That is your game plan right, isn’t it the Salvation way? That is what your bringing into the match in hopes of beating me. Is that REALLY what expertise stands for? Waiting until your opponent beats himself, before crawling over and pinning him for the three count? I don’t know what’s less likely me beating myself —or Havoc getting laid without the act of rape."

"The only chance you stand, Chuck is beating me YOURSELF. That’s it. Because every fucking single time I step into that ring, I’m putting in 110%. We all have are off days; but trust me, they never shut down to the point where YOU could capitalize on it. You cannot rely on me to falter; I’m way too good for that. Your going to have to do it, Chuck. For once YOUR going to have to work for what you want, and not squirm your way to the top like you’ve done so far."

"Clearly though; common sense simply isn’t your friend. Haven’t you heard around? I’m overwhelmingly projected higher in the prediction category than you in this match. And Chuck; there is a reason for that. It’s because people know just how good I am. Forget the underdog bullshit for a second there isn’t a person on this earth with an IQ over 75 that doesn’t think I’ll walk out just as the No Limit Champion."

The tall white gates stand in front of you, looming over, the sheer size and mass intimidating. But behind lies something even greater. Something only few will ever witness, or understand. Behind lies the Kingdom of Jesus Christ. This isn't heaven for the many outside the gates. The burning desire to get past the gates is what eats away at your interior. For you know you will never see more than through the gates. It's a feeling that tears you apart, as you realize there is something far greater that you will never experience.

For everyone else, this IS hell.

You stare through the gates, pressing your forehead against the cold metal, wishing you could step inside the tall, cathedral, one of the most beautiful sights you've ever laid eyes on. For inside this cathedral is something you'll never understand. For inside that cathedral is thousands and thousands who pray to their higher powers. They pray for the greater things in life. Respect, power, and status. Things you're led to believe to be inferior.

But without them, you're inferior.

Inside that cathedral is a religion only few have understood, and fully taken advantage of. People like Salvation once believed in this. Then they fell off the face of the earth, losing there place among the stars. Once stood above everyone, now slowly defeated

But the cathedral is not the only place to be of importance. For there is a large cemetery. Occupied by the ones who failed to believe, and achieve their status. Men like Brenton Cyrus. Chuck Matthews. Alex Mark. This is where the remains of broken men lie. This is where failure is greatest. Among these men were a strong passion, filled with broken promises, and numerous shortcomings. But there still lies a pair of graves. Deeply dug, and awaiting their final testimony of failure.

You don't need to read the tombstones to know who's names on them.

On Saturday, the graves will be filled, and once again covered with the dirt that once laid there. You can se this all from outside the fence, yet still not have any idea of the amazing feeling which accompanies entrance in to this sacred place. You all are still on the outside looking in, hating the cards you were dealt.

For this, I have little pity. You had control over your own destinies, and failed to overcome the obstacles in your way.

You have no excuses for your failures.

As you have no chance of admittance.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Cause you see Chuck, honestly I know the truth. Your scared to face me cause your afraid that the guy who you claim isn't worth shit. May hand you your first true lose. Cause you fail to realize that I am a very good god damn wrestler, I'm no slouch. I've been doing this for a decade and I have learned from the very best this business has to offer. So your faster than me, but you don't have the same charisma as I do. You may be able to perform something I can't do, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't know how to counter it. What you fail to understand Chuck is that I am better then you in everything you attempt. This week war of words is the proof. Every time you put out gold, I turn around and realize it as fool’s gold. Every fact you bring up, I turn around and show you the error in your ways. Leaving you on the fence, leaving you to fend off my truth with more bullshit.”

“You seem to be obsessed with me losing to David Hudson, so much you went out of your way to find the cocksucker, now Let’s look at another fact for a moment because I‘m sure you were trying to make some sort of a point with this.”

“I did lose to David Hudson, he beat me when I didn’t really care about winning and losing. But what has David Hudson done since that night? He’s buying tickets to house shows and I’m competing for championships.”

“So who really got the shit end of the stick?”

“You’re nothing but a joke. Anyone can bring up people I‘ve lost to, go dig up my ex girlfriends why your at it. Go talk to my folks, go molest my kid sister. It doesn’t affect me, Chuck. It really doesn’t. You can tell me how hard you had it and then tell me that I’m the one bitching and moaning. Did I tell you that I’ve shot someone dead in the streets before? No. Did I tell you anything about my past? No. You’re the one who thinks the past means anything.”

“You’re nothing but filler, Chuck. Your whole career is being filler for the card. Your entire career is nothing but filler. So what if you’ve beaten Jackson, so what if you enjoy replaying a worthless defense. Another sign your getting desperate, using what ever you can to put some product into your promos. I bet you were thrilled about the effort you put in your last promo.”

“Just remember its Quality over Quantity”

“I’ve already started the mind fuck Chuck. I’ve got you off your game and I’m making you paranoid. So much to the point of paranoia. It’s elementary, Chuck, you just can’t see it. I really wish you wouldn’t have even started shit, because after Saturday you’ll be shitting in a colostomy bag. Saturday, after it’s all over, you’ll be wondering what hit you."

Have you ever had a moment when everything seems to fall perfectly in place, and it gives you a sliver of understanding about your purpose in life. Me neither, but last Wednesday came close.

When I opened my eyes, Alicia was sleeping beside me and splinters of golden light were shining through the blinds. I had to elbow her three times before she woke up.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"What's for breakfast?"

I asked.

..:: Alicia ::..
"Whatever you make"

Easing out of bed, I stepped to the window and inhaled a chest full of smoggy city air. You can't help but cough. I was interrupted from scratching myself by the BlackBerry vibrating on the dresser. The clinic where I work nights was calling to see if I could come in and help out. The day shift Tech had called out sick.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Give me an hour, and I'll try to make it"

With prices for everything going up, I needed the extra money. Why I ever entered the health care field is a mystery. You will never get rich, and the hours are long and unrewarding.

The clinic is located in downtown Philly, and I always enjoy the scenery during the ten minute drive. The dealers are already on the corners, and there's always a few hookers headed for breakfast at T-J's after a busy night. If you are interested in paying for sex, Philly has the best rates in the country.

Walking into the clinic, I observed two fat guys and one old lady seated in the waiting area. I should have stayed the fuck home. Stelazine Rivers, the RN on duty was drawing blood from a young man in the triage room. She waved me over.

..:: Stelazine Rivers ::..
"Morning Frank"

she said.

..:: Stelazine Rivers ::..
"There's one patient in with the doctor, and Mr. Silver is next."

She nodded toward the young man while grabbing a blue top tube. I guess it was too much effort for her to say thanks for coming in on my day off. She acted like I didn't have a choice.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Where do you want me to start?"

I grumbled. After years of working on the night shift, I was unfamiliar with the daytime routine. Stelazine pointed toward the grey-haired woman in the waiting area.

..:: Stelazine Rivers ::..
"Start getting that woman's info, and we will go from there."

RN's love to flaunt their authority, and I hoped that Stelazine would leave me alone for the rest of the day. The old woman in the waiting room was staring at me as if waiting for something.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Good morning"

I said, while holding out my hand.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"My name's Frank, and I'm one of the Medical Technicians. If you will follow me to the exam room, I have some questions to ask you."

..:: Old Woman ::..
"You seem like a nice young man"

She said, while struggling to rise from the low sofa.

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"My name is Helen Oliver."

Mrs. Oliver's breath smelled like last weeks fritters, and it took all my strength to avoid gagging. Old people tend to depress me. Mrs. Oliver was eventually able to stand up. I grasped her thin arm and guided her toward the exam room adjacent to the triage room. I estimated her age to be around 104, but she seemed to be ambulating without difficulty. She appeared frail as a feather, but there was something annoying about her piercing blue eyes, and they remain fixed on me as I pushed her down on the exam table.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Stop staring at me"

I muttered.

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"Thank you dear"

she said.

When people can't hear what you are saying, it gives you options.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"You're welcome, I'm going to ask you for some basic information, and then you will see the nurse or doctor."

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"What ever you decide dear."

It's hard to remain professional when you don't give a fuck, but I managed. It turned out that Mrs. Oliver was eighty-nine years old. She must have had a rough life because she had more wrinkles than my cat's ass. After filling out the required information on the nursing form, I was finally able to ask the important question.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"What brings you into the clinic today?"

Her sparkling blue eyes searched my face, and she reached out to grab my hand. If I had been faster, I could have avoided her touch. Her fingers were ice cold, and the translucent skin on the back of her hand revealed some ugly blue veins. Her hand was rough enough to sand my porch railing.

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"I was next door at the Wal-Mart looking for a pot holder, and somehow I ended up in the sporting goods aisle, My husband Arthur loved to fish, and seeing the poles brought back so many memories."

By this time, I was wondering what the fuck she was talking about and waiting for her to pull out pictures of Bobo the cat. I was hoping she might pass out so I could move on to the next patient. I took her blood pressure and pulse, and both were within normal ranges.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"Are you feeling weak or dizzy?”

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"Oh no, I'm just fine sitting here talking to you, You look like my husband when he was young. Arthur died five months ago, and now he's with Jesus."

Good old Arthur might be with Jesus, but there are other possibilities. Like standing next to Brenton Cyrus, fucker calls himself a God, if you ask me he’s the Charlie Manson of Salvation.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"I'm sorry"

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"I get so lonely, Arthur and I never had any children, and sometimes you just need to talk with somebody. I saw the clinic, and thought it might be a safe place."

Health care facilities in America are not safe places.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
"You aren't feeling ill? Watch any Chuck Matthews promos?”

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"Heavens no dear. Thinking about Arthur just made me wish I had a friend to talk with. You have been very kind listening to an old woman's troubles."

Mrs. Oliver's comment left me wondering how the fuck I turned into Dr. Phil. There was nothing physically wrong with her, but I needed Stelazine to check her out. Minions are not allowed to make decisions. She agreed that the old woman just needed someone to talk to. That's what the internet is for.

Stelazine ordered me to walk Mrs. Oliver to her car. People that old should not be operating a motor vehicle. I watched her drive out of The Wal-Mart parking lot without killing anybody.

Last Friday, Alicia and I were sitting outside at the corner café drinking coffee when I noticed a familiar figure at one of the tables.

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"Frank is that you?"

I was doing a good job of pretending not to hear her when Alicia got involved.

..:: Alicia ::..
"Isn't that lady calling you?"

Only your spouse can manage to fuck up a good day. We spent the next hour listening to a woman with senile dementia ramble on about Arthur. While watching a pretty young lady in red shorts walking past the café, I reminded myself to find another coffee shop.

The next thing I knew, Alicia was tugging on my arm and screaming

..:: Alicia ::..
"Something's wrong with Helen."

Helen Oliver was slumped over on the table, and my wife was struggling to keep her from falling on the ground. There's really no need for heroic measures when the victim is over sixty. I checked her pulse, and it was fast, weak, and thready. I would have called a time out, but some idiot had already called 911.

The ambulance was there quickly, and they lifted Mrs. Oliver onto a gurney while administering oxygen. She had regained consciousness, and was striving to speak. In an attempt to hear her, I bent over the stretcher and placed my ear at a sanitary distance from her mouth.

..:: Helen Oliver ::..
"I'm going to join Arthur with Jesus"

she croaked, and closed her eyes.

..:: Frank Hart ::..
“Be sure to say hey to Cyrus up there would yea, tell him his disciple will be joining him after Saturday”

..:: END ::…