Post by High Tide on Jun 4, 2018 20:10:14 GMT -5
It was the final straw.
So it was true then, I thought to myself. Wasp had abandoned me for his newest plaything, Miss Trouble. I shook my head, thinking about all the times I had brought that man to the top. All the times I had singlehandedly kept Wasp relevant, because his skills were certainly not where they needed to be. He was an old man in a young man's game. Or womans game, I wasn't one to discriminate. The point being that, with a few exceptions, the younger superstars were taking over. If you were older you had to have some semblance of skill, or a prescence to stay relevant. Wasp? He had none of that. He could barely fight his way out of a paper bag. His gimmick? Real original. Call yourself Wasp and wear some black and yellow. Real original.
I smiled at how easy it was to admit these things to myself finally now that the wool was no longer pulled over my eyes. I could see it clearly. What kind of friend wouldn't answer your calls for weeks on end? One who wasn't a real friend, that's who. Any man who would give up a years long friendship entirely, to pursue a woman half his age... well that was no friend of mine. After all, I was known as the woman chaser, the crazy party guy, and yet I still always made time to call Wasp. I made time to listen to his stupid problems, to advise him even if my advice was not the best in the world. I was a friend, not a therapist, and at least I put the damn effort in.
My boots crunched through the dirt, an empty wasp's nest held firmly in my left hand and a shovel in my right. I had hoped to evict the small, annoying little fuckers out of their home much like I was about to remove Wasp from my life, but alas I had found it empty. Oh well, you couldn't have everything work out in life, a fact I was beginning to realize more and more as time went on. I shrugged, but kept walking. I needed to find a good spot to start digging, somewhere the dirt was a little more forgiving, a little softer.
As I crunched through the dirt, sometimes the occasional dried out plant or weed, I started to think about my next match. Hiroshi Yukio was a big, daunting man and I certainly was going to have my hands full. Yet I was excited for this match, I almost felt... reinvigorated. No longer did I have the extra weight of Wasp and Trouble weighing me down. I didn't have to worry about what the outcome would affect, whether or not someone would come out and mess things up. No, there was no more baggage, nothing but me and Yukio and the ring. That was it. I stopped for a moment, putting down the shovel and reaching into my pocket for my trusty flask. I never left home without it. I took a long, long, deep swig and sighed and the fiery liquid hit the back of my throat. Yes. Yes, this was like old times. No Wasp to hold me back, no Trouble to look out for. Just me and an opponent and I could employ every damn trick in the book. I could give it my all and not worry about the outcome. The only outcome that mattered was getting in that ring and showing my opponent, and every other damn wrestler in the company that my time was not past. I, High Tide, might of been on a low swing lately, but it was my time to rise again. I had tried it all. I had tried not drinking, I had tried no wild parties, no crazy sex. I'd tried wrestling clean. None of it, not one single "improvement" had ever gotten me any closer to the top. I had slowly declined and declined, and now here at rock bottom, I was ready to begin my rise to power again. I hoped that PCW was ready to deal with me, because I wasn't holding back any longer. Let them see the man, the myth, the drunken assailant in action once again.
Hell, this was as good a spot as any to finally put away that baggage from the past, once and for all. Replacing my flask after another quick swig, I grabbed the shovel with both hand and with the aid of my booted right foot, I jammed the shovel with all my might into the dirt. The earth protested, the still mostly dry dirt cracking and straining before finally giving way. I pulled it back out of the earth, feeling a sort of cleansing feeling as the first shovelful of dirt left the earth. I kept digging and digging, straining my back and my legs, and the muscles in my arms, but I wasn't here to do an easy task. A hard task required hard effort, and this was effort I was willing and able to give. Finally when a big enough, a deep enough hole was in the ground below me, I dropped the shovel to the side and picked up the empty wasp's nest. I looked at it, how it represented the empty husk my life had been before this moment, and without hesitation I tossed in into the hole. Then came the easy task of replacing the dirt. Finally, I had buried my past. No more Wasp. No more codependence. No from here on out it was just me, just one pirate ready to hit the ring with full force. I was willing to give it my all, no holds barred. Yukio wouldn't even see it coming. High Tide was back. I just needed a burial, a funeral for my old life.
The future was now.
So it was true then, I thought to myself. Wasp had abandoned me for his newest plaything, Miss Trouble. I shook my head, thinking about all the times I had brought that man to the top. All the times I had singlehandedly kept Wasp relevant, because his skills were certainly not where they needed to be. He was an old man in a young man's game. Or womans game, I wasn't one to discriminate. The point being that, with a few exceptions, the younger superstars were taking over. If you were older you had to have some semblance of skill, or a prescence to stay relevant. Wasp? He had none of that. He could barely fight his way out of a paper bag. His gimmick? Real original. Call yourself Wasp and wear some black and yellow. Real original.
I smiled at how easy it was to admit these things to myself finally now that the wool was no longer pulled over my eyes. I could see it clearly. What kind of friend wouldn't answer your calls for weeks on end? One who wasn't a real friend, that's who. Any man who would give up a years long friendship entirely, to pursue a woman half his age... well that was no friend of mine. After all, I was known as the woman chaser, the crazy party guy, and yet I still always made time to call Wasp. I made time to listen to his stupid problems, to advise him even if my advice was not the best in the world. I was a friend, not a therapist, and at least I put the damn effort in.
My boots crunched through the dirt, an empty wasp's nest held firmly in my left hand and a shovel in my right. I had hoped to evict the small, annoying little fuckers out of their home much like I was about to remove Wasp from my life, but alas I had found it empty. Oh well, you couldn't have everything work out in life, a fact I was beginning to realize more and more as time went on. I shrugged, but kept walking. I needed to find a good spot to start digging, somewhere the dirt was a little more forgiving, a little softer.
As I crunched through the dirt, sometimes the occasional dried out plant or weed, I started to think about my next match. Hiroshi Yukio was a big, daunting man and I certainly was going to have my hands full. Yet I was excited for this match, I almost felt... reinvigorated. No longer did I have the extra weight of Wasp and Trouble weighing me down. I didn't have to worry about what the outcome would affect, whether or not someone would come out and mess things up. No, there was no more baggage, nothing but me and Yukio and the ring. That was it. I stopped for a moment, putting down the shovel and reaching into my pocket for my trusty flask. I never left home without it. I took a long, long, deep swig and sighed and the fiery liquid hit the back of my throat. Yes. Yes, this was like old times. No Wasp to hold me back, no Trouble to look out for. Just me and an opponent and I could employ every damn trick in the book. I could give it my all and not worry about the outcome. The only outcome that mattered was getting in that ring and showing my opponent, and every other damn wrestler in the company that my time was not past. I, High Tide, might of been on a low swing lately, but it was my time to rise again. I had tried it all. I had tried not drinking, I had tried no wild parties, no crazy sex. I'd tried wrestling clean. None of it, not one single "improvement" had ever gotten me any closer to the top. I had slowly declined and declined, and now here at rock bottom, I was ready to begin my rise to power again. I hoped that PCW was ready to deal with me, because I wasn't holding back any longer. Let them see the man, the myth, the drunken assailant in action once again.
Hell, this was as good a spot as any to finally put away that baggage from the past, once and for all. Replacing my flask after another quick swig, I grabbed the shovel with both hand and with the aid of my booted right foot, I jammed the shovel with all my might into the dirt. The earth protested, the still mostly dry dirt cracking and straining before finally giving way. I pulled it back out of the earth, feeling a sort of cleansing feeling as the first shovelful of dirt left the earth. I kept digging and digging, straining my back and my legs, and the muscles in my arms, but I wasn't here to do an easy task. A hard task required hard effort, and this was effort I was willing and able to give. Finally when a big enough, a deep enough hole was in the ground below me, I dropped the shovel to the side and picked up the empty wasp's nest. I looked at it, how it represented the empty husk my life had been before this moment, and without hesitation I tossed in into the hole. Then came the easy task of replacing the dirt. Finally, I had buried my past. No more Wasp. No more codependence. No from here on out it was just me, just one pirate ready to hit the ring with full force. I was willing to give it my all, no holds barred. Yukio wouldn't even see it coming. High Tide was back. I just needed a burial, a funeral for my old life.
The future was now.
