I will regain MY throne

[Holden Ross]

“I can tell you this much; we have already discussed this situation and the man who has the best shot at winning is going forward. No hard feelings. No bitterness. We have plans in place to assure it…it…it…”

Audio from Holden's appearance last week on the “Canvas Crawlers” podcast plays over an image of Holden holding Gerard's arm up in victory after he pinned Grimm in the finals of the Icemann Invitational Tournament. The scene slowly fades to black as Holden’s words echo into darkness. When the scene fades back into focus we are treated to Holden sitting on a patio chair, in the sun, apparently on a roof somewhere. The cloudless sky is a gorgeous blue and a slight breeze keeps it just cool enough that you aren’t sweating while sitting in the sun. On a glass table sits a red “Solo” cup with beads of condensation grouping on the outside. A small glass ashtray sits near the cup, a half-smoked cigar resting in it as well as a pristine joint, just as thick as the cigar.

“I once again have an opportunity to become the Underground King, and in order to do so, I will have to dethrone none other than my one-time nemesis, Rick Majors.” He smiles and takes a swig from the cup. “Rick isn’t built for my Kingdom; maybe fifteen years ago he would have bounced back and healed quickly after going through such brutality. Facts are facts, though, and in his advanced age he isn’t capable of it. Old injuries flare up. New ones are crippling. And his competition, guys like me are younger and hungrier and Rick is carrying a pork chop around his neck. I may not have crippled him in our last match, but I sure as Hell left him worse-for-wear and still feelin some of it.”

He chuckles to himself while gesturing to the World behind him.

“This is MY Kingdom, Rick! And when I regain my crown I will sit upon my throne and survey my Kingdom. I won’t have you removed, or executed, as I should but, rather, I will make you watch as I and Pandæmonium form this company into our vision. He will soon face, and humiliate, Stormm, and take his title. And when David is able to return, absolutely one hundred percent healthy, the “Fall of Hate” will begin. Pandæmonium will continue to be the Premier faction, ever, in the history of Pure Class.”

Holden takes another swig from his cup while, from off camera, the unmistakable sound of a cork being removed from a bottle can be heard. It garners Holden’s attention and brings a smile to his face. He watches whomever it is until they, eventually, appear in the shot. It is, of course, a female who looks to barely be old enough to be drinking the champagne she has in a regular water glass. She's brunette, Hispanic, about five-six, and one hundred pounds, if that. She is wearing a neon green bikini and pulls a chair up to the table next to Holden. She gives him a smile before asking him a question.

“You gonna introduce me? Or…..?” she asks as she picks up the joint from its resting place in the ashtray.

“I was gonna get around to it….” is his reply while he watches her carefully lick every inch of the joint except the mouthpiece. She doesn’t soak it, just barely dampens it, before popping it into her mouth and lighting it. She does this so it doesn’t run, and, hopefully, burns evenly. “Why do you do that?”

“Sorry, hon, but you’ve been drinkin some and when you do, you don’t always do the best rolling job.” He runs a palm down his face and then stares at her for a moment, gobsmacked. “Truth hurts, babe.” She exhales a plume of smoke and all Holden can do is shake his head and laugh.

“I was gonna do it later but, seein as how she has interrupted what I was doin, I’ll be the first to introduce her to the World of Professional Wrestling.” He begins speaking like a ring announcer; dropping the pitch of his voice an raising the volume. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, assholes of all ages!” She playfully slaps him while taking another puff. “I am proud to introduce, from Mon-ter-ey (he pronounces each syllable as if it they were separate words) California! She is the “Vixen of Violence” and the Harbinger of Pain.” She! Is! Cassie Cortez!”

Cassie playfully slaps him on the arm before passing him the joint. He gladly accepts it before taking a deep, long pull from it.

“Ya know, I was saving this for later…” he points out.

“Not any more…” is her reply.

“Don’t worry, Rick, Cassie won’t be with me at ringside.”

“Que no?!” her brow is curled by a scowl as she turns to look at him.

“Yer under contract as a student and Loki has made it abundantly clear that no students get involved in matches sanctioned by P.C.W. I don’t make the rules.”

“No, but they were made to be broken, no?” she asks with a mischievous grin curling her lips.

“Normally I would agree, but, I want Rick to myself. Everyone knows our history. My disdain for him is in my bones and I could pick up where we left off like I was slipping back into an old lover. Carnage, chaos, and bloodshed will be on the itinerary for the evening and I plan on wallowing in it. I am going to climb to new levels of violence and depravity and, as the rightful King of the Underground, the division is going to sink to new levels of pain and ferocity. I am the King of Ultraviolence. It is what I was born to be and I have come to terms with that fact. I have embraced it. And I will show you such degrees of pain, Rick, that you will wonder if you somehow stumbled into a “Hellraiser” sequel and Pinhead was your host. Only, I’m real and so will be the agony you experience.”

Cassie’s grin is so large it looks as if it may split her face. She take another hit before passing the joint to Holden who exhales a cloud into the air and watches the wind tear it to shreds.

“Rick, you made amends with Seromine. Now, I’m not gonna lie, I never saw that comin but, Hell, even a broken clock is correct twice a day. I’ve had a lot of people in my ear during my short career; my Father, Frank Merritt. His buddy, and yours as well, Rick, Ethan Andrews. Seromine. And lately, my good friend Gerard Angelo. Hell, I even briefly had the P.C.W. coat check girl as well as a head shrinker trying to convince me they knew what was best for me. And the one thing they all had in common was that they are all wrong! Nothin against Gerry and Seromine but they were.

I am going to take what’s mine, by force, if necessary....starting with my crown. The Book of Matthew, Chapter Eleven, Verse Twelve; ‘From the days of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.' Did you hear that? ‘The Violent take it by force.’ Precisely what I plan on doin….takin MY Kingdom back by force. I know you, Rick, I know you well. Well enough to know you won’t just roll over and give up the crown. I'm gonna have to beat ya to within an inch of your life.” He takes a hit from the joint and hands it back to Cassie. “And I’m gonna love every minute of it….”

Holden rises from his seat and turns to survey the World before him. The camera fades out on him from behind with his arms folded across his massive chest. Later that afternoon, Cassie went off to do, whatever it is she does, while Holden caught an Uber to “Uncle Joe Scrap ‘n Tow” just south of town. Joe had a sixty-eight Mercedes that needed a little bit of wrench work and a whole lot of elbow grease. The convertible top was in tatters and the interior was shot. Joe, however, recognized Holden and smelt a deal in the air.

He then directed the young man to a garage where a vehicle sat under a gray canvas tarp. With Holden looking on, he gives the tarp a mighty pull and exposes a sixty-five Impala. It, too, is in need of some body work and interior work but when Joe turns the key, it fires right up and purrs like a kitten. The dual glasspack exhaust give it a throaty growl. Holden is in love like it was his first lay.

“How much ya want for it?” he asks, taking notice of the faded yellow-orange paint mottled with gray primer.

“Three grand's a good deal….” He answers, killing the engine.

“Two…” is Holden's reply. He's not Ralphies old man from “A Christmas Story,” bartering isnt one of his favorite pastimes.

“Wear a t-shirt with my logo on it on tv? Maybe shoot one of yer interview video things in my yard? “

“Shit, for two grand you got a deal!” he thrusts his hand out to shake and Joe accepts.

“Let’s go to my office and sign some papers….”