I awoke, drenched in sweat. My sheets, my pillows, my boxers, all damp with perspiration. It had been my first full night of sleep. I laid in my bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. It had been a rough few weeks lately, and I felt like something was missing. I hadn't taken advantage of the situation I had been in. I should've been the victor. It happens, but not to me. I am a future hall of famer, and I haven't been living up to my name. I've got everyone thinking they can beat me. Thinking that Freddie Styles has dropped off since I tasted my first CWF gold. Please. These fools actually think I have lost something. I'm still the one that they all wish they could be.
I leaned over and grabbed my pack of cigarettes from the night stand. I looked at the clock as I pulled out a cigarette. Damn, 9:47 a.m. and I was already smoking a cancer stick. Nasty habit I still hadn't kicked. Oh well, you can't impress everyone. I certainly found that out last week.
I lit the cigarette and took a long, hard drag. I held in the smoke, and then exhaled as I continued to think to myself. All the heat I had taken this last week, for not showing up for a appearance for the CWF, was ridiculous. It's almost as if they try to hold me down. Everyone wants to beat Freddie Styles, yet no one truly can. I never understood it. Instead of people coming to my face, and at least threatening me, I get disciplined for no showing. Bullshit, but what can you do? Nothing. It's tough sitting at the top of the world.
I sat up in my bed, and looked around. Everything still felt so empty. I had no idea what Aurora had been upto, but nor did I need the stress. I sat up from the bed, and threw on a pair of shorts, grabbing the cigarette from my ashtray, I then walked downstairs to make some breakfast. Eggs sounded great. As I walked to the kitchen, I saw an white envelope sitting in front of the door. It looked as if someone had taken the time to make sure I saw the note. There wasn't a return address, or a sending address. It simply read "Mr. Freddie Styles". I looked at it, with a hint of curiousity. If you knew me, you'd know I don't get uptight about things like this. I let myself run my own course. I'm succesful that way, anyways.
I put ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled the letter from it. I dropped the envelope to the ground as I opened the tri-folded letter. My eyes grew wide as I read.
It’s good to see you back in the sport you love. It makes it a lot easier for myself. But there is still a problem Freddie. You see, I’m a desperate man, and desperate men do desperate things. I expected more out of you at the P-P-V, but hey, what can you do, right?
But let’s cut the friendly bullshit, here Freddie. I’m sending this letter to you, to let you know that I have some things you might want. I have enclosed two images. You might want to check them out before you read any further.
You see Freddie, I’m doing this to show you something...to allow you to see what kind of person you truly are. Don’t get me wrong Freddie, I actually do respect you. I just don’t respect some of the things you do. You cheated on the woman you are supposed to love Freddie. The woman who is going to bear your child. Do you forget that so easily? I sure hope not.
I now leave the decision in your hands Freddie. You decide whether you truly do love DeShaun and Aurora. Then we'll see if you truly do love anyone more than yourself. I always hear that you are so egotistical, selfish, and one-sided; but I don't want to believe it
Freddie. I will introduce myself later, when the time is right.
Your number one fan.
I stepped back, taking in the information which had shattered my Tuesday morning. I looked to the floor, and there lay the two pictures of my family. DeShaun and Aurora. I shut my eyes, and felt my blood boil. I was being used. But what bothered me most were the thoughts in my mind. I was more concerned whether someone had stolen money, or valuables. I hadn't given thought to my own brother, nor my girlfriend.
I fumbled with the pictures, and finally set them on the counter. I looked towards the bright Alabama sun, thinking to myself.
"Where does it end??", as I watched the waves crash to the beach. It would've been a nice day, too.
It seems I've let people down. It seems I haven't been as remarkable as I was supposed to add up to. It seems I built up a bit of ring rust. But that's not the only problem. I'm looked at as the man around here. Like I've said countless times before, I'm a future legend. There isn't any denying it. You see with my publicity, comes CWF's popularity. Folks leaving at the drop of a dime, dropping belts on their way out the door, old heads coming in, getting the velvet throat treatment from management, yet I'm one of the consistent ones. I'm here, week in, week out, kicking ass anytime I step through those ropes. But because I don't speak out ONCE, I'm getting shit. But I understand why now, and you have concluded my thoughts; I AM the CWF. So therefore, it seems like that title should be placed around my waist. I've beaten the best, i've made a path of conquest. I'm Legend Status. I expect to see my name on that main even for Summer Games. It's what the people want.
There's still more.
Funny how i'm starting back at the bottom. That always amuses me. Dick Fury, huh? The man from the outside who has come to take down the future legend. Is that how it is? Haven't you ever read your mythology? Zeus never loses. The god is never defied. And between me and you...the god is I.
How could you win?
Easy. You can't. You stepped up your game to be the man. You needed to prove yourself. Sure you've had success elsewhere, but that's nowhere near the CWF. That talent is sub par. Where you dominated.
Where you fit in.
You can't take down Freddie Styles. I've seen many just like you. I've been just like you. I've watched rookies and past it vets come at me. Trying to take down my name, and bring up their own.
Trying to ride my dick.
Look Fury, I'm giving you material. I'm giving you something to use against me....or attempt at least, instead of the same bullshit everyone else thiks they can. I bet you enjoy watching my matches. It gives you someone to look up to. You see, I gave you a reason to come at me. You need this match to gain respect. I take this match for a tune up. Same bullshit, different day.
Yes i'm a Future Legend. Yes, i'm your god.
I'm every thing you're looking to be. Nothing about you makes you different from the jobbers of this place. You expect for everyone to respect you as soon as you step foot in to MY ring? Who the fuck are you!?! A nobody, exactly. I had heard good things about you, heard you were pretty good. I can't see it.
I think you suck.
That's the only opinion which matters. You'll say in your own Dick way the same thing that everyone else has said. I figured you'd watch some old promos, and make an attempt to pick me apart. But it's not that way is it? You needed me to give you material. Well here it is, use it all. I just wonder though.
What's it like at the bottom?
I forgot, sorry. It's just been so long that I've been at the top, i forget what its like at the first rung. I know how to win, I know how to talk. I can walk and chew bubble gum too. Imagine that. Can you? Doubt it. Let em make it extremely clear. I'm in this game for my own success, and my own gain. Nowhere do I look at fans for help. Never have I counted on the fan base to boost my career. Yet, I'm still what keeps the fans coming. I could give two fucks about anyone in this business besides myself and my boy Duce, cause he, like me, got here from that same southern mud that chokes the life out of anybody that looks like me.
I don't have to show you why I'm better than you Fury. I think if you compare our styles, you'll see a huge difference. I can be creative, and draw an audience. After someone sees you once, they skip the second and third. They're all the same. Same rhetoric, same bullshit. I gave you gold to work with, and you came back with shit.
You're worse than I thought.
I can see you're determined to beat me; that is noticable. But I felt you would've come at me with something unique. Something that could make you stand out from the others. But you didn't. Did you think about how big this match is for your career? This match alone could plummet you to the ranks of jobber. This match could make you a superstar.
Too bad you can't beat me.
I want you to look around, and check out the kingdom I'm building, the foundation I'm setting. Then I want you to think about your accomplishments. Have you ever beaten someone on the level I'm taking you to?
This plateau is far too hgih for you, Dick.
I'm a future legend. I've shown you what I can do. I've raped you verbally. What else is there I can do? I watched you dig your own grave. Now you're getting buried in it. I don't feel bad. You're just another victim. Another tally in my win column. What makes you think you'd last ten seconds with me Fury?
I've made my name, and marked my kingdom. It's only a matter of time before I break your spirit. Such intensity for a nobody. You haven't proven anything yet Fury, nor will you at Evolution.
You can't cut it.
I gave you your chance. This is where I end it.
My knee to your face puts Dick back in his place
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."