Posted in: Taste My Rainbow TMR [21] - Dealing With Drugs Can Be Downright Dangerous
By SkittleZ
Jun 1, 2008 - 1:33:55 AM
[21] - Dealing With Drugs Can Be Downright Dangerous
Yes, you can spread the word.... the Candyman has somehow landed himself on the Main Page. Call it dumb luck. Hell, perhaps Calvin PMed the wrong guy. All I know is I'm here now and have no plans of making this a quick visit. Thank you kind people upstairs for pulling some strings and making this all possible. You've put faith in me to provide LOP with top notch columns and I fully intend on delivering on my end of the bargain.
Welcome one and all to the Main Page debut of Taste My Rainbow. The column that's finally out of the closet. I'm SkittleZ - the guy who'll be directing this horror scene from start to finish. Most of you probably know me from the LOP's Columns Forum. I wrote twenty columns over the course of fourteen months and I'm assuming a few shmucks liked my stuff as it landed me this gig. My column is pretty self explanatory but I'll explain it nonetheless for those out there who suffer from some sort of retardation. I use the basic intro/main body/conclusion format. Every now and then I may attempt something different but it's unlikely to alter much of the column's appearance. And yep, that's all you need to know. I can already tell this is going to be one long ass column so lets get on with it.
For those who don't know, I'm currently entrenched in a bitter rivalry with fellow Main Pager, DaveyBoy. Me and him are competing in a pay per view prediction contest which runs for twelve months. To make a long story short, we simply make our predictions every time a PPV is approaching and add the final scores to our overall win/loss records. No real specifics to it. While DaveyGirl has been making predictions regularly over the past six years (I know... what an old timer), I'm the new kid on the block who's looking to make a name for himself. And in this case, at Davey's expense. The contest started at Armageddon. I jumped out to an early lead but DaveyBoy has since regained the advantage and held his ground ever since. Lately, I've been able to make up some ground and now trail him by just two matches. Oh and for those out there unsure who to root for, I'm the baby face and he's the heel. The overall standings look something like this: DaveyBoy (32-16) / SkittleZ (30-18)
I watched One Night Stand this past Sunday and was pretty pleased with it as a whole. I would consider every match on the card to have been decent or better. Even the Last Man Standing match was good up until Orton broke his collarbone. You can dispute the ending of the Hardy/Umaga Falls Count Anywhere match and whether it was too unrealistic. But wouldn't you rather have them cover up the landing rather than see their bodies' bounce three feet into the air? Yes, suspend your disbelief! The five man Singapore Cane on a Pole match was entertaining and Big Show was booked strongly. Too bad he got carried away and actually cut his head on the corner of the ring steps. What a shame... the spot wasn't even that impressive. The First Blood contest was blah, Beth Phoenix nearly snapped poor Melina in half and Batista showed those heel like characteristics that we all know and love as he beat the holy hell (see what I did there?) out of HBK. And to top it all off, Edge and the Undertaker put on an outstanding TLC match. A few new spots added to the mix and a nice swerve constitutes this bout as a definite Match of the Year candidate. Another solid pay per view from the 'E. Not sure yet about buying the DVD but you should definitely rent it from Blockbuster.
So as a result of last Sunday's pay per view, both Randy Orton and the Undertaker are out for a few months. The Legend Killer is legitimately injured and the Deadman is enjoying his annual summer vacation. He's taking it a little later than usual but hey.... we'll just credit that to hard work and dedication. Just when I thought the Phenom was getting ready to settle in as World Heavyweight Champion and enjoy a good lengthy run, he goes and pulls this shit. I can only imagine how good the real estate business is during the summer. Jesus, Taker is one greedy bastard. Thanks to an awkward landing on the floor, RAW is without their number one heel until after SummerSlam. Big blow to the company and Monday nights more specifically. (sigh) How about management stop dragging their asses and turn Jericho heel already?
SmackDown is getting their own Women's Title, eh? Well, let me be the first to congratulate the creative team on another idiotic blunder. Are you serious? If anything, the Women's Division should have been moved over to SmackDown. So we'll have to sit through TWO Women's Championship matches at Night of Champions? That's eight minutes of my life I can never get back. In my mind, the only way this is acceptable is if they keep the belt off of pay per views in the future. One Divas bout is enough for a single evening. I enjoy scantily clad women screaming and kicking at each other as much as the next guy but there's only so much I can tolerate. Fortunately, the SmackDown Divas aren't complete failures. Victoria, Michelle McCool and Natalya Neidhart should be able to bring some credibility to the division. Whoever came up with this genius idea is in need of a good strangling.
Oh man, I need a smoke. Bad. Like the cravings are almost uncontrollable. Maybe I should just take a hit or two. What harm can come from taking a few puffs? Nah, I can't. Then what the hell were all those AA meetings for? If I go through with this, all of that was simply a waste of time. And what about my career? I already have two strikes. I screw up again and I'm finished. I'll be out doin' the indy scene and while the freedoms are great, the pay stinks. But hey, my odds of not getting caught have to be pretty good. One puny little blunt and I'll be set... until this weekend at least. They got lucky and busted me twice in ten months. What's the chances lightning will strike three times in the same place? I got my own locker room. I greeted everyone on the way into the building. The walk-through doesn't begin for another two hours and big brother Matt isn't here to reason with me. Still, I gotta be careful. Better make sure the coast is clear.
Jeff opened his door slowly and poked his head out. He looked left and then right. Not a person in sight. With a grin on his face, Jeff retreated back into the safe confines of his dressing room and locked the door. He pulled out a little brown box from the bottom of his duffel bag and set it beside him. Hardy wasted no time in opening the box and rolling out a blunt. Jeff tended to get a little excited when it came to smoking and maybe overstuffed the blunt a little. He hadn't made just a fat blunt.... Jeff had created the ultimate blunt. It was obese. With absolutely no hesitation, Hardy pulled out a rainbow colored lighter from his back pocket and lit the blunt. He took an enormous hit off of it and let the smoke engulf his insides. Jeff struggled to refrain from coughing and after fifteen seconds or so, exhaled with glee.
He then took another hit and leaned back against the wall. Jeff stared off into space as he thought about his main event match with Cena. He pondered whether or not he would be WWE Champion if he hadn't gone and broke the rules. Hardy figured he'd be Mr. Money in the Bank at the very least. He suddenly realized how much he despised Punk at that very moment. What a poser he was. Jeff then felt a burning sensation coming from his right hand and quickly snapped out of it. The blunt was finished. Hardy didn't count on the fun and joy being over that quickly. And quite frankly, he wasn't ready to call it quits just yet. Jeff therefore rolled another blunt. Not nearly as big but still sizable. Hardy situated himself where he was sprawled out across a bench with his head dangling off the end. Jeff picked up where he'd left off. After four or five hits, he noticed his vision had gone blurry as the room began to spin and the rotation's velocity seemed to be increasing.
Hardy sat up in hopes of regaining a stable equilibrium but the spinning continued. Jeff shook his head, looked around and decided to take another puff. This led to another puff and another and well... you get the picture. He disposed of the remaining bud in the bathroom and noticed how much it smelt of weed inside his locker room. Jeff walked over and cracked the door to allow some of the odors to escape into the main hallway. Was it a smart idea? Of course not. But Jeff didn't care.... after all he was stoned. Hardy suddenly got the bright idea that he should get some fresh air. He messily stuffed his pot box into his bag and strolled out into the hallway. A few strangers passed by casually yet they made Jeff feel extremely uneasy. Every now and then, he would stumble or hit his leg against random objects pushed to the side. Hardy wasn't exactly sure where he was heading. He came upon another locker room and Jeff wandered inside. There was someone sitting in the corner apparently catching a nap before the show. Jeff knew right away who it was and couldn't believe she had returned to the WWE.
Jeff: "Lita! I can't believe it's you! You came back! Why? I thought you were through with this place. I thought WE were through as a couple."
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not Lita. It's me.... Mike Chioda. How the -"
Jeff: "No Lita.... please don't play games with me. You've already ripped my heart out once and stompt on it."
Mike Chioda: "Yoohoo Jeff.... it's Mike! What's the matter with you? Oh good God. Please tell me you aren't under the influence?"
Jeff: "I know you came back for me. You must have! No need to worry, baby. Edge is with Vicky now. I'm the United States Champion. See?!? I've made something of myself!" (Jeff picks up a towel and waves it in the air).
Mike Chioda: "Jesus, you're high as a kite! Do you realize what you've done?!? You're gonna lose your job over this! I have to report you, Jeff. I'm so sorry. I know some guys from Ring of Honor. TNA might take you back... they're always desperate for talent."
Jeff: "I love you Lita. Why can't you understand that? Just be with me. We can share what we once had together! I can be just as satisfying sexually as Adam was! You just gotta give me a chance to show you!"
Mike Chioda: "This is sickening. I'm going straight to Vince's office. You leave me no other choice, Jeff. Please forgive me for this but it's for your own good. Stay right here."
Jeff: "No! Don't go, Amy! Can't you see that our lives have crossed paths once again thanks to a twist of fate? Believe in me, baby. I'm your number one! Your Version 1!"
Although Mike Chioda had left his room, Jeff rambled on incoherently to himself. By the time Jeff realized he'd been talking to a clothes hanger, Chioda had returned with company. After some initial resistance, Jeff finally went quietly.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER...
Vince: "You've really let me down, Jeff. I gave you three strikes, just like everybody else, and you blew through them like a dime bag's worth of Crystal Meth! You've disappointed management and the entire roster. I had to plead with Chioda not to press harassment changes for Christ sakes! I hope you've learned a valuable lesson from all of this. This is as good as it gets and you can only go down from here in terms of exposure and merchandise. The timing couldn't have possibly been any worse as you were in line for a WWE Title run here in the next few months. Unsurprisingly, your drug test results came back positive.... very positive in fact. So you know what that means. Now I won't have security escort you from the building but I want you to pack your things and leave immediately. I'm sorry it had to come to this but you left me no other choice. Good doing business with you."
And with that, Jeff left the room with his head low and his pride demolished. What would happen to him? Where would he go for work? Questions swam around in his mind as Jeff headed towards the locker room area. Hardy was wondering what he would tell Matt and his girlfriend when a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Yo Jeff."
Hardy turned around to see Randy Orton leaning against a nearby wall smoking a blunt. He gave Jeff an all too familiar grin.
Jeff: "Hey Randy. I suppose you've heard the news."
Orton: "Yeah, gossip travels fast around this place. Look man, I'm really sorry. That's tough stuff you're going through."
Jeff: "Dude, you shouldn't be smoking. Especially out in clear view like this. That's how I got busted."
Randy nodded in approval and then took another hit.
Orton: "You're right. I gotta watch it. Already got six strikes against me. Only four left you know. (sigh) Yeah, management blows. Alright, I'm outta here. Later dude."
Without a second thought, Randy extinguished the joint on a large piece of cargo and walked off. Jeff was frozen still and simply watched on in bewilderment as Orton disappeared through a set of double doors.
In a hotel a few towns away, Chavo Guerrero was already crawling into bed so he'd be well rested the following night for the ECW/SmackDown tapings. There were rumors going around the locker room that Chavo was expected to be traded to the RAW brand in the upcoming Draft Lottery to feud with a higher tier of wrestling talent than what he'd become accustomed to on SmackDown and ECW. Other talk going around backstage confirmed that management was hesitant about the move since Guerrero wasn't as big and muscular as superstars such as Triple H and John Cena. Of course, Chavo became aware of all this and began enduring a lot of stress. He was worried about not having the right look and missing out on the big push that had eluded him his entire career.
Chavo had learned his lesson though and swore he wouldn't succumb to steroids like he had last fall. However, Guerrero wasn't too thrilled with his current position in the company and felt his career resume could use a bit more prestige. Still, Chavo would need the aid of illegal substances and that wasn't a chance he was willing to take.... or so he thought. Chavo turned over and shut his eyes. Less than minute a later, Chavo was out like a light. It was surprising the large order he and Bam Neely devoured from El Burrito Loco just an hour earlier didn't upset his stomach or disrupt his sleep...
He woke startled to discover he was sitting in an abandoned alley way that was consumed by darkness. In the distance, Chavo could hear some soothing Latin music illuminated by a warm light. Guerrero got to his feet and sprinted towards the brightness. Chavo came to a hault at the end of the alley as his eyes fell upon an astounding sight. While he found it odd that the edges of his vision were blurred out, it was what sat right in front of him that caught his full and undivided attention. A tricked out electric green Cadillac occupied the space and blared out some familiar Spanish tunes. And there in the front seats, accompanied by two beautiful Mexican women in bikinis, were his Uncle Eddie and Rey. They both wore happy expressions but didn't seem taken aback whatsoever by Chavo's sudden appearance. They were deep in conversation but then Eddie suddenly called out to his nephew.
Eddie: "Hey... Chavito! What's good, homes? Listen essay, I heard about your big push. Thing is.... you can't take no chances, Chavito. Don't let this push get away from you. Why take the chance when you could be sure, homes? You gotta take the juice!"
Chavo scanned the car and realized that the back seat was overflowing with various syringes, creams and vitamins. He also noticed that the girl on Rey's lap was shooting him in the arm with a needle and how Mysterio seemed to be deriving some sick sense of pleasure from the multiple injections. And Rey appeared to have swelled considerably since the last time they'd spoken.
Chavo: "But I'm down to my last strike, Eddie. I could lose my job and even end up in jail if I decide to go through with this. I'm in a good spot right now. I'm working with Edge, Hawkins, Ryder, Vicky and this new guy Bam Neely. We got the whole La Familia thing going and it seems to be going over pretty well with the crowd. I even won the ECW Title back in January. I was WORLD CHAMPION, Eddie."
Eddie: "You're hangin' with a bunch of gringos? What happened to you, Chavito? I thought you were going places, homes. Nah if you wanna be on RAW in the big time, you gotta bulk up. As Mexicans, we're thin by nature. The WWE wants guys who are built, essay. Just take me for example. I abused some steroids and look where it got me? I main evented WrestleMania as the WWE Champion. Right now, you're stuck with the losers. The ECW Title don't mean nothin' these days, Chavito. And so if you carry the title, you're nothin' too."
Rey: "Yeah, you ain't nothin'!"
Mysterio's outburst caught Chavo's attention and he was alarmed to see that Rey had doubled in size and was packed in the passenger seat like a sardine. Before Chavo could address Mysterio's ridiculous frame, Eddie called out to him again.
Eddie: "Oh and speaking of Edge, he's the guy you need to talk to. Edge knows some people that know some other people. Shit, he's the guy who use to supply me back in the day. Gotta love those Canadians, right homes?"
Chavo: "Edge? Really? He's smaller than I am. I don't know Uncle Eddie... are you sure this is the right thing to do? I guess I could sample a little bit and see how it goes. But wh...."
"Time to say bye bye, Chavo."
"Yeah, you got work to do."
The voices appeared to be coming from behind Chavo. He turned around but the dark alley was vacant. Guerrero turned back around to ask Eddie a few more questions but was caught offguard by the sight of Ryders and Hawkins. With a smirk on their faces and steel chairs in their respective grasps, the Edgeheads pulled back and delivered a thunderous Con-Chair-To to Chavo's skull. Guerrero waited for the searing pain but it never came and everything faded to black.
Chavo awoke to find himself wrapped up in bed sheets. He sat straight up as a bead of sweat rolled down past his temple. At first, Chavo treated it as just a strange dream and went about his business. Chavo traveled with Edge and Vicky the following week to the ECW/SmackDown tapings. Guerrero thought it'd be funny to mention his bizarre dream to Edge as they waited for Vicky outside the restrooms in an airport terminal. Only thing was that Edge found Chavo's nightmare anything but hilarious. As Guerrero went on, Copeland stared back with a serious expression. Edge looked around to make sure Vicky wasn't coming and leaned in towards Chavo's ear.
Edge: "Dude, I take steroids. Nothing crazy but I get enough to keep me in tip top shape."
Chavo: "Ah.... so that's why you've been looking so chubby over the last few years."
Edge: "It's called muscle mass, chumpstain. Now look, do you want in? I can get you some impressive quality shit. I've been in this game for a long time. Hawkins and Ryder have filled out nicely, don't you think?"
Chavo: "Those guys are in on it to? Ah man..... alright then. Count me in. Definitely."
Edge: "Awesome. You'll be main eventing pay per views in no time."
Copeland pulled out his cell phone, dialed an anonymous number and put it to his ear.
Edge: "Hey TB, it's Edge. Looks like I got you a new customer."
SEVERAL DAYS LATER...
Vince was sitting in his office skimming through some paperwork when there was a knock on the door. McMahon removed his reading glasses and looked up.
"Yes? Come in."
William Regal walked into the room, shook hands with Mr. McMahon and took a seat.
"Glad to have you back, William. Have you sorted things out?"
Regal: "Yes sir. Again, I'm terribly sorry for the major inconvenience. I've gotten help and thus am a better man because for it. If I have to start at the bloody bottom of the heap and work my way up, I'll do it without question. You just tell me what you need from me and I'll see that it gets done."
Vince: "Well, that's the type of attitude I like to see. I'm a man of perspective and reasoning, William. No one is perfect. Individuals have flaws and are therefore likely to make mistakes here and there. The world of professional wrestling is no exception. When it comes to dedication and performance, you've always stayed on top of things. Did you make bad decisions? You're damn right. But can you rectify them? Absolutely. That is why I'm deciding to continue the push you received before the 60 day suspension. Creative wanted to switch you over to ECW and make you the General Manager but your services are needed more on RAW."
Regal: "Thank you, Mr. McMahon. It means a lot to me that your faith and loyalty did not sway during these troubled times."
Vince: "As you know, Hunter is the reigning WWE Champion."
Regal: "And he's doing a fantastic job thus far."
Vince: "Oh without question. Now my concern is what will lay in front of Triple H once his feud with Cena concludes. Their program is scheduled to run up until SummerSlam with Hunter retaining the title. I need a strong heel to carry him throughout the fall. Possibly even up to Survivor Series. I think you can be that man, William. So first thing's first... we need to get you back on television and build you up to realistic competition level. You're mic skills are already superb. That aspect doesn't worry me in the least bit. I want you in the ring to brush up that outstanding technical prowess of yours. No need to say another word. Get out of here and get ready.... you're on the card tonight."
With a smile on his face, Regal stood up and swiftly left Vince's office. But behind that smile was an enormous amount of doubt. Regal had been gone for over two months and done very little training in preparation for his return. He was already 40 years old and the window of opportunity to take his career to the next level was closing. Regal knew he could outwrestle the Game. But fans wouldn't buy him as a viable threat to Hunter's title. Regal knew he needed help. Outside help. And it wasn't as if he didn't have connections. His career spanned 25 years; wrestling in Europe, WCW and now WWE. As much respect as Regal had for Vince, he knew an extra boost was necessary. Once he was alone in his locker room, Regal got on the phone and called up his supposed supplier.
Regal: "Cheers, old friend. How is life? Yes, not so well I hear. That really is a shame. Listen, I need some assistance and I think you know what I mean. I'm not getting any younger. Really? I'm delighted to hear that. Alright. Call me back. Thanks Terry."
YOU GUESSED IT...
The Chairman of the Board strutted down the hallway on the third floor of the WWE headquarters. He hung a left and proceeded through the second door on his right. The room was spacious and taken up by a large brown table. Seated around it were Stephanie, Shane, John Lauranitis and a couple other road agents. Lauranitis appeared to be discussing something important with the others given the look on their faces. The talk ceased however when Mr. McMahon entered. Silence fell over the table as Vince took his seat at the head of the table with a confident look on his face.
Vince: "Thank each and every one of you for making it here on such short notice. As you all know, our plans of placing William Regal in the main event opposite of Triple H have been derailed due to the recent release of Regal for failing a routine drug test. I know we've been up in arms as to whom we should substitute for Regal. I've been thinking about it all morning and I think I know just the man for the job. After going over it with John earlier..."
John Lauranitis: "Er.... actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Unfortunately, some..."
Vince: "Just give me a second, John. It fits perfectly. Now the individual we're bringing in is a bit older than Regal but the interest from older wrestling fans will lead to a dramatic increase in ratings. And while the matches might not turn out to be technical masterpieces or five star classics, we don't need them for this program to be successful. Besides, we're all about entertainment. Wrestling is secondary..."
John Lauranitis: "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. McMahon, but I have vital information that I need to share with you..."
Vince: "Please allow me to finish my pitch. This isn't kindergarten. You will wait until you're called upon because I said so."
John Lauranitis: "......Of course. My apologies, sir."
Vince: "As I was saying, this individual is no stranger to the WWE. And with his name constantly popping up on dirt sheets, we are bound to draw in extra viewers. Another two or three thousand I'd imagine. He may not be well liked backstage but the boys will warm up to him soon enough. Ladies and gentleman... I give you the Ultimate Warrior!"
Everyone in the room avoided eye contact with him except for Lauranitis.
Vince: "HA! See? Even your creative minds can't grasp this concept!"
John Lauranitis: "Actually, it's because...."
Vince: "This swerve will be one of epic proportions! Fans won't have any choice but to watch and see how it all plays out. With this approach, Hunter vanquishes a big time legend and also gets revenge for the humiliating loss he suffered to Warrior at WrestleMania 12. We'll be killing two birds with one stone! How's that for a battle plan?"
Nearly out of breath, Vince awaited their unanimous approval. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mr. McMahon grew aggravated with the lack of excitement coming from the others.
Vince: "Hello? Are you all still asleep? Why the hell aren't you all jumping on board?"
John Lauranitis: "That's what I've been meaning to tell you. One of our press agents got a hold of me earlier after you and I had spoken. It just so happens that Warrior changed his official name yet again..."
Vince: "......and?"
John Lauranitis: ".....to 'Honor the Great Helwig'."
Vince: "So? Listen, we can work around it. The Warrior gimmick will still work just as well as it did back in 1990. Just let me talk..."
John Lauranitis: "Yes, we could work around that name. However, Warrior chose to abbreviate it. So his official name are the initials..... HGH."
Mr. McMahon looked a defeated man as he collapsed back into his chair. He then peered around the room as if he was looking for someone to mentally obliterate. After a minute of dead silence, the WWE Chairman stood up and rolled his eyes in disgust.
Vince: "I'll be in my office. No one is to disturb me until a respectable opponent has been chosen for Triple H to squash. It's not like I have a dozen Randy Orton's lying around to use at my disposal."
LATER THAT WEEK...
Vince McMahon waited behind a desk in his Greenwich, Connecticut home. But this wasn't just any guest. No, there were big implications riding on this meeting. Vince's secretary beeped in.
"He's here, Mr. McMahon. Send him in?"
Vince: "Yes. Thank you, Martha."
The office door opened and in walked Hulk Hogan. He was sporting a blue bandanna, a red muscle shirt, blue jeans and sandals. The two of them shook hands before taking their respective seats.
Hogan: "So what is this huge life altering deal you kept bringing up earlier on the phone? I'm a busy man, Vince. As I'm sure you're aware, the family life isn't going so well."
Vince: "Well I'm afraid it could be about to get much worse. That is if you don't feel like cooperating under the appropriate terms."
Hogan: "Is that a threat, McMahon?"
Vince: "Make of it what you will. The fact is I've done my research and the results appear to favor me much more than they favor you. See all of these drug and steroid allegations aren't just making the WWE look bad... they're making me look bad. And I simply had to put my foot down at some point, didn't I?"
Hogan: "What the hell are you talking about, Vince? I think you're losing it."
Vince: "On the contrary, I'm as sharp as ever. After the Signature Pharmacy Scandal came unraveled, I was positive the steroid issue would become an afterthought. However, it has gotten worse than it has ever been over the last year. So I had my guys do some investigating and the information they uncovered was a bit alarming. So it appears during your time outside of the wrestling world that you've been quite the busy individual. It seems as if the only guy within World Wrestling Entertainment that you haven't been in regular contact with as of late would be me."
The Hulkster shuffled in his seat uncomfortably but kept his poise.
Hogan: "I have no idea what you're getting on about. And how dare you accuse me of anything when you know damn well that I'm going through a difficult divorce and my teenage son is behind bars!"
Vince: "Don't play stupid with me! You've been running a drug trafficking operation down in Florida and from what I've gathered, two thirds of my goddamn roster are clients of yours!"
Hogan: "I don't have to take this shit! So what? You gonna bust me? Ruin my life? It's already screwed up enough! After all we've been through over the years, you're going to call me out on this? How is it my fault these kids never took their daily vitamins? Everybody takes steroids in wrestling, Vince. Face it. The sooner you do, the better. Hell even you've taken them in the past!"
Vince: "Whoa now. Lets catch our collective breaths. You know me.... I'm a businessman first and foremost. If you work with me, I'll brush this all under the rug and pretend I know nothing about it. That's if you're willing to negotiate."
Hogan: ".......... What did you have in mind?"
Vince: "The fans still love you. They still can't get enough of Hulkamania. I want you to come in and work WrestleMania 25 against Stone Cold Steve Austin. I also want you to take the loss but only after three stunners."
Hogan: "HA! If you want me to fight Austin at 'Mania and lose, you better be ready to fork out the big bucks."
Vince: "I'm well aware of that thank you very much. Now..... how does a $1.5 million payoff sound?"
McMahon waited for the Hulkster to respond with enthusiasm. However, Hogan was sitting quietly contemplating the offered price.
Hogan: "Make it three million and I'm in."
Vince: "Three million?!?!? Are you absurd?!? Nobody gets that kind of money for a single match! I gave you an extremely reasonable price!"
Hogan: "I'm not just anyone! If you haven't noticed, I'm the immortal Hulk Hogan. The greatest professional wrestler in the world! Past, present and future! I put this sport on the map and made it what it is today!"
Vince: "Oh I've heard enough of this crap! You got your chance, pal! SECURITY! Security get in here and arrest his ass! I got enough evidence to lock you up for a good long time!"
Four muscular men swept into the room, stood the Hulkster up and put him in handcuffs. Vince watched on in anger and satisfaction.
Hogan: "I'll get you back, McMahon! Mark my words!"
Vince: "Say hi to Nick for me will you? Now get him out of my sight."
The four security officers shuffled out of the office with Hogan. Vince closed the door casually and sat back down at his desk to read through the companies' quarterly earnings.
Monday sucked. I had the unfortunate task of attending an old friend's funeral. My friend Nick died in a car accident during the morning of May 30th. He was heading to work on his motorcycle when a car pulled out in front of him. Nick went head first into the side windshield and the durability of the window snapped his neck instantly. My friend had just graduated from high school the year prior and was only 19 years old. The emotion which floods through a person while grieving the death of a friend or family is totally normal. I felt heavy with guilt due to the fact that I didn't keep in touch with him over the years. My friend only lived a few blocks away from my Dad's house yet I never once bothered to call him up so we could chill. Now I'm stuck wishing for the rest of my life that I had spent more time with him while he was alive. I'll get over it eventually but it stings a little right now. Rest in peace, Nick.
On a happier note, the NBA Finals are officially underway! The Boston Celtics kicked off Game 1 with a hard fought victory over the Los Angeles Lakers. It wouldn't shock me at all if Kobe Bryant came back with a strong performance Saturday night to even the series up at one game apiece. Like most basketball fans, I'm fully expecting this series to go six or seven games with Boston coming out on top when it's all said and done. If Paul Pierce is able to offset Bryant's scoring onslaughts, the Celtics will be in great position to edge out the Lakers and win the title. Garnett, Pierce and Allen are three guys that I just find myself pulling for time and time again. Don't be stingy Kobe... you have three rings already. Share the freakin' wealth.
Alright, I'm tapped out. This felt exceptionally long to me though I could just be hallucinating. I plan on putting out a new column every 10-14 days and it's not likely to change any time soon. Now that you're done reading, go check out the Columns Forum. The guys there give the Main Pagers a run for their money. Seriously, the CF is full of brilliant creative writers so make sure you check it out. Whether you loved my column or deeply despised it, let me know what you think. Feel free to hit me up at (SkitzLOP@aol.com) with any thoughts, opinions or suggestions. I'm outta here. Until next time, take care and watch out for sleazy women. Later homies.
