The Road to 12/12/12

Sports Talk Radio

We're following Angelus as he walks down the hallway to the Sportstalk 790 studio. The Big Show with Matt Jackson and Adam Wexler is well into its second hour. He stands off to the side and waits for Matt to wave him in and he takes a seat in the spot usually reserved for the guest of the hour.

The show returns from a commercial break.

Matt Jackson

Alright, we're back here on The Big Show. So, I've been watching our Twitter feed blowing up all morning for the guest we have in studio today. 

Adam Wexler

It's crazy. People are tweeting in or texting in questions and we got a Monday night football game going on tonight against two of the NFL's best.

Matt Jackson

Hey, people in Houston love their wrasslin'. So, without further delay, The Big Show would like to welcome XWF superstar Angelus to the show.

We hear the opening drums to Metalingus by Alter Bridge start up in the background and after a moment the music cuts out.

Matt Jackson

Welcome to the show, Angelus. How are you?

Angelus

I'm good, man. How are you?

Matt Jackson

I'm fantastic. How you feeling?

Angelus

(small laugh)

Sore. Very, very sore.

Adam Wexler

Matt was stressing all morning about whether or not to call you Anj. I think he was afraid you'd dropkick him through a window or something.

Matt Jackson

(to Adam)

Wouldn't you? The man is in great shape. 

(Back to Angelus)

Before we begin though I want to give you a congratulations for your win on Saturday and from what I understand one of the highest rated episodes of Impact this year.

Angelus

Thanks. It was a hell of a show. Place was sold out which is what you always want to see and yeah, when I saw the numbers I was shocked like anybody else.

Matt Jackson

Now XWF as a whole has been doing very well, but from what a couple people, namely my son who is a big fan of the XWF, have told me is that Warfare has kinda been the hot commodity. 

Angelus

That's my understanding. Y'know I'm still a relative new guy. But Impact has struggled to get viewership. I don't think anyone has been shy about that.

Adam Wexler

Why do you think that is?

Angelus

Hard to say. The roster is lean. You got maybe two or three top guys who can really draw. The content just hasn't been there. I know there were a lot of guys like The Nuke and Primetime Drew Potter they were trying to give the ball to and it didn't work out.

Matt Jackson

That being said, do you consider yourself now one of these guys who is able to take the ball?

Angelus

Maybe?

(Laughs)

I'd like to think so. I like to think me and guys like Sid Feder can get people watching the show again.

Adam Wexler

Speaking of people watching the show. This last show in North Carolina kind of changed things for you, didn't it? I'm looking at a clip online of you super-kicking Shane Carver, owner of XWF, right in the face.

Angelus

(Laughs)

Yeah, I think I got more calls to my phone over that than I have in the last two years.

Matt Jackson

Well, who doesn't or who hasn't wanted to kick their boss in the face at one time or another?

Adam Wexler

I haven't.

Matt Jackson

Keep brown nosing, Adam. You might get a Christmas bonus yet. We're going to take a quick commercial break and then we're going to be right back here with Angelus in the studio and we'll talk a bit about the upcoming XWF pay-per-view.

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Matt Jackson

Welcome back to The Big Show with Matt and Adam on Sportstalk 790. In the studio today we're joined by XWF superstar Angelus who has been making waves of late after the events of Saturday Night Impact this past weekend. But there is no rest for the weary, as in just a few days the XWF kicks off one of their biggest pay-per-views of the year, conveniently labeled "12/12/12" and it is live this Wednesday over in the Astrodome. Tickets are sold out, but of course I know a few of you will find a way to scalp tickets and pirate the show.

Adam Wexler

When was the last time an event was held there?

Matt Jackson

I think the Stones had a concert there a few summer's ago.

Adam Wexler

Appropriate, two long forgotten relics. They should blow that place up.

Matt Jackson

Moving on. Angelus, why don't you tell us a little bit about the pay-per-view and where you fit in?

Angelus

Well, the name says it all. I'm going up against XWF newcomer Ursula and Yan Yungsung for a shot at the European championship.

Adam Wexler

Ursula sounds like she should be a five hundred pound chick wrestling in granny panties with like a food stain down her shit, but looking at her pics she's a babe. You ever worry about getting in the ring and losing to a chick?

Angelus

Not at all. Didn't bother me on Saturday and it won't bother me on the pay-per-view. I'll tell you one thing though, Sarah Saint James is a competitor and I think we stole the show last Impact. Ursula, for lack of a better term, is a complete idiot.

Matt Jackson

(laughing)

How so?

Angelus

She's a typical rookie trying to get a lot of heat on herself by running her mouth. If I had any advice for her it'd be to keep her trap shut. She's apparently very disillusioned to the point where she's calling me and Yan the bottom of the barrel. I don't care if Yan is a poor man's Liu Kang. I have a hell of a lot more respect for him than I do this ditz. She's not tough. She's not a badass. She's a nobody and I hope after this is over she can return to whatever trailer park she crawled out of.

Adam Wexler

And the trash talk is flying! I love it.

Matt Jackson

Looking at the card on the XWF website I see there's a second triple threat match for a European title shot? Is that right?

Angelus

That's right. Never a dull moment.

Matt Jackson

Now we'd be remiss not to talk about the Lethal Lottery tournament which is kinda the big draw of this event. You were in it for a hot minute it seemed like. Any regrets on how that shook out for you?

Angelus

Sure. But there's not a lot you can do. I think I got to exorcise that demon when I leveled Carver on live TV. Any vendetta I have is with John Christ and his ability to absolutely suck whenever they put this kid out there. So if he walks away victorious in his triple match maybe we'll see what happens then.

Matt Jackson

This is great stuff. We're going to take another quick break and then we're going to do some rapid fire questions from twitter before we let you get out of here. Be right back.

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Adam Wexler

We're back on The Big Show. Angelus is our guest in studio this morning. Our last segment before we let him get out of here is we hit him with our top five favorite questions from twitter. Angelus you ready?

Angelus

Let's do it.

Adam Wexler

Awesome, first question comes from at Texans Girl and she asks who is your favorite wrestler if you can't pick yourself.

Angelus

Hmm. I'm going to say Mark Flynn. He always looks pissed off, fans love to boo him, but he's a great worker and I look forward to taking that European title off him.

Adam Wexler

Very nice. Next question, from at The Real Steve Harris, he asks, what is Shane Carver's obsession with potatoes?

Angelus

(laughs)

No idea. Though I hope after Saturday he's drinking potatoes through a straw.

Adam Wexler

That was quite the shot to the face. Next question, from at Hit Girl 911, she asks, least favorite venue you've been at so far?

Angelus

That's easy. The show we just had in New Orleans. I made the mistake of eating some bad gumbo and I was best friends with the hotel bathroom for the rest of the night.

Adam Wexler

Sounds like a typical Friday night for Jackson. Second to last question from at Yan Yungsung fan, he wants to know what you're gonna do when Yungsungmania runs wild over you on Wednesday?

Angelus

(pauses; shakes head)

Next question.

Adam Wexler

Last question. From at Boss Hog, he asks, how epic is Hank Lane's mustache?

Angelus

Epic. Though I still believe him and Steve Sayors were getting it on in that hotel room. Alright, boys we done?

Adam Wexler

Thanks for stopping by, Angelus.

Matt Jackson

Yes, stop through anytime and good luck on Wednesday.

Angelus

Thanks guys. Later!

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Hands Held High (Part Two)

Hands Held High: Part 2 of 2

I see the things you need to be.

This man that you see. His name is Angelus.

You don't know him. But someday, you will.

He is a man of great discipline.

He is the best at what he does.

Angelus fears no man.

And no woman.

Tonight his life will change. Right here in North Carolina.

"They're really beefing up security tonight, huh?"

The room around him is bright, washing away the color of the wooden panels that make up the individual lockers. Around him, strewn about the carpeted floor are towels, spandex tights, and gym bags, rifled through, their contents spilled across the carpet. 

There are others in the room as well.

Some look familiar.

Others he wonders if they ever saw ring time at all.

They are well defined, well built, a unique look to each of them, and most seem to be off in their own world. Anj smirks a little, the corner of his lip twisting slightly. He continues to look around the locker room. Everyone tense. Some tired. Some energetic and ready to go.

And yet, still there is a sense of uncertainty. There is a sense of lingering doubt that seems to hang about the air like a shadow over the day. Dark and foreboding. A black void that threatens to swallow everything in its place.

It stings at his sides, and yet he is not quite sure why. 

Everyone is talking about something, but the exact topic seems to fade like static in his ears. 

"Can you blame, 'em? Fuckin' Professor is in the hospital. Who knows who'll be attacked next."

"This is some bullshit. Let me tell you. There is a code back here and these goons broke it."

"You want to go tell them that? Be my guest. I'll send flowers."

Here's what you need to know. Angelus is a revolutionary. 

He will bring about great change. It's in his makeup.

Something is coming. Something big. He can feel that. 

He's felt it once before.

You see, my friend. The world does not care for beauty. 

The world only cares for destruction and desolation. 

The world gives and the world takes away.

Anj sits and tapes his wrists and hands. A calming tactic that allows him to focus and put his mind at ease. His foot tap-tap-taps away in frenetic anticipation.

He thinks about Sarah Saint James. He wonderes if after tonight her time in the XWF will come to a close. Her naïvety that these fans admired her was going to be her downfall. The fans respect truth and handwork.

Both of those things she knew nothing about.

What she was was lucky.

Lucky that she was in the main event and even luckier that she had someone like Angelus to teach her a lesson.

See this wasn't a movie.

There was no cliche ending. 

There would be no Rocky comeback.

When Saint James stepped into that ring it was going to be fifteen to twenty minutes of her finding out why they called him the whole damn show.

"Hey Anj, it's show time."

Anj looked up from taping his hands.

"What's that?"

The man is stocky, deep grooves line his forehead. His jowls sag and his eyes droop. An old man who refused to die.

"I said you're on. Let's see some hustle."

Anj nods. Now was the time. He heads for the guerilla station and can hear the crowd cheering loud out in the arena. The place was sold out.

He can feel the jitters already. The bug has bitten him. His adrenaline is already pumping through his system. His right hand begins to shake and he clenches it into a fist.

Breathe.

Deep breath, he remembers. Deep breath.

And then his music hits, and the lights out in the arena dim.

Anj closes his eyes. One last thought before he laid it all on the line. 

One last moment of clarity before he showed the world why he was the best.

One last moment before he showed Saint James why she didn't belong here.

One last moment to let them all know that the only one they should worry about, watch for and speak of, is Angelus.

Anj opens his eyes, and tears the curtain to the side.

For this is Angelus.

After tonight everything will be different.

You don't know him yet, but someday, you will.

Hands Held High

Hands Held High: Part 1 of 2

If we met in a scissor fight, I'd cut off your wings on principle alone.

Life begins beautiful, and pure, and then descends into a shadow of itself. A gray, bleak world where the jaded rule with an iron fist, and all who dare to believe in change and making a difference are snuffed out. Every day, in each and every life, it begins with a pure moment. A glistening memory that each man and woman will always have. The day starts with the break of dawn, a deep violet giving way to the sun-fire as the minutes pass. The sun, stirred from its slumber, forced into the sky to brighten our days. 

I'm rambling, please forgive me. I tend to do that.

We've never met before. But don't worry, we will soon, friend.

Picture this, if you will.

It is a bright, clear morning. There are two children - one boy and one girl - sitting beneath the comfortable shade of a willow tree. Its cascading shadow grants them reprieve from the blistering heat of a summer sun. They are sweaty, and smiling, their hair mattered from the perspiration. A deep, lush meadow surrounds them on all sides. 

One child turns to the other and asks, "Where do you think it came from?"

And the other will reply, "I dunno. Maybe from somebody who used to live out here."

And the girl will nod, tilting her head to the side. Her red, rosy cheeks are becoming flushed. She is exhausted, but her curiosity will outweigh that. She looks at the boy, then down at the tiny, metal airplane that he holds in his hand. Her attention is drawn then to the sky.

She points, her tiny, chubby finger, nothing more than a meager dot against the landscape, and she asks, "Does that look like a mushroom?"

The boy will turn his head, and he will look to where she points, he will see what looks like a mushroom, and it will remind him of something he saw in a video game the night before, and he'll say, "Reminds me of Super Mario brothers."

The girl will turn, frown and ask, "What's that?"

And the boy will smile, a smug look on his face, and he'll explain the game to her. What he won't tell her is how at night when he's playing he can hear her dad shouting next door.

That doesn't matter right now. All around them is nothing but beauty. They cannot be harmed. The boy will give the girl the airplane before he goes home. He knows that secretly she is jealous that she didn't find it first. 

He wants to say something about the black eye she has, but he can't bring himself to. His mom once told him to not ask people questions that make them feel uncomfortable. Before he gets up to leave, she will yank his arm to pull him close, kissing him on the cheek.

She will say, "Thanks for being my friend, Anj"

Do you understand now?

No?

Picture this, then.

There is a young man, his skin fair, with a head full of dark hair. He is sitting cross-legged beneath a willow tree. Its shadow no longer as deep and fruitful as remembered. Its wood is rotting, falling to pieces. The tree is dying, but the young man seems not to notice. His eyes are closed, and he's thinking on a lot of things. It's been a summer since he has been home.

The girl, herself, now older, her chubby fingers have grown into long, slender things, as agile and dexterous as spider legs. Her hair, once long and blonde, is now shorter, with a purple streak in it. 

He sees her coming through the tall grass,  looking beautiful in the almost awkward way about her. He tries to suppress a smile, but he can't.

He'll say, "You remembered."

The girl nods amiably enough, and without hesitation walks toward him.

She'll say, "Of course I did."

They'll talk for awhile, each pretending that they are unaware of how their lives intertwined before. He'll talk about traveling through Europe, getting drunk in Paris, and how now he's thinking about a semester abroad.

She'll talk about catching fireflies in the field behind the high school last week and how she hates her job, that it doesn't give her enough time to do what she wants to be doing.

"I never thought you'd come back here," she'll say. 

"It's home."

"Yeah, but you were always too big for this place, Anj."

The sun begins a long descent from the sky and yet they keep talking. Before the night is through she tells him her plans to run away. That living at home is not in the cards anymore. He asks where she's running to.

She'll say, "Los Angeles"

He'll ask what's there for her and she says nothing, but she likes it that way.

Then she asks him to open his hand, and he does, and in it she places a tiny, metal airplane.

Shall I continue, friend?

Okay, picture this.

It'll be a long time before he hears from her again. Many years have gone by and on certain days he sometimes can't remember what she looks like. A call comes in the middle of the night, he answers, and is greeted with sobs.

"Hello?" he asks, but no answer just more crying.

Then, finally: "Anj?"

"Yes?"

"I'm in a bad way right now. I… I need you to come and get me."

He's in Boston at the time and after getting an address takes the next flight out to LA. The City of Angels. The city skyline is dotted with brilliant white lights. The rain has ceased to fall, and the night life was just beginning. Down on the streets, the wet pavement provides subtle noise beneath the feet of all who walk across it. It is an exciting, bustling time, but not for him.

He takes a cab to the address he had written down on a piece of paper. It's an old motel, deep in the valley. Palm trees adorn the glass sign that advertises the hotel and indicates that there is a vacancy. 

He stops in the motel office to inquire about a guest, but then it strikes him that he hasn't seen her in years, has no idea what she looks like anymore, how to even begin to describe her. So he tells the motel manager that he's looking for a young girl, around his age, and the manager says he's seen a lot of young girls come through tonight, but for an extra fifty bucks he'll divulge a little more.

Room 213.

He stands outside it. Breathing heavy. Shoulders hunched. He kicks the door open, and he's surprised by how easy it caves in. A large man, in a white tank top leaps from one of the double beds, the leap is more in surprise than anything.

The man tries to go for a snub nose that he has tucked in the waistband of his jeans, but he's too slow. Anj is fast. Always has been. He floods into the room and lands a kick that sends the man flying over the double bed and into the far wall.

He scours the room, looking… eyes moving… where is she?

The bathroom.

He goes there and finds her sitting on the toilet. Naked aside from her panties and the jeans around her ankles. She's slouched over. A needle hanging out of her arm. He kneels, grabs her by the head, it feels so light. A hand goes to her pulse…

Nothing.

He's too late.

Now, now do you understand?

I hope so.

Before you go, picture this.

He sits on a  plane, it's a red-eye flight from New Orleans to North Carolina. In three days he'll be in the main event. He has a lot to prove, but he's never backed down from a challenge before.

There's a lot of business to take care of in North Carolina.

Shane Carver.

Sarah Saint James.

He sits in the window seat staring out. He thinks about girls and how they tend to get lost in this world. How they desire so much, yet want very little. He thinks a lot about bad choices.

He thinks about Sarah Saint James calling him a talentless, polished turd and realizes that she doesn't get it. That she doesn't have what it takes. In the "sport" of professional wrestling you either have it or you fade into the sunset and Saint James' time had already passed.

When he got to the arena he'd meet up with Sayors or Weinberg and he'd tell them what everyone else already knew. Saint James was flawed. That there was no road to glory for her to walk.

He thinks about evolution. Then he realizes that Sarah knows nothing about him. The type of man that he is. He'll ask Sayors what hope does Saint James have when confronted with these truths? What does the the Mighty Ms. James plan to do in the heat of competition? What plan does she fall back on when she's standing in the middle of the ring wondering if she hasn't made the biggest mistake of her life?

You have the right to be amazed?

He had the right to laugh. See what Saint James failed to realize was that he was a man of great discipline. On Saturday she would realize that. She would also realize the truth about herself.

She was not She-Hulk. 

She was not the most dangerous person -- let alone woman -- in the XWF.

She didn't have what it took.

She would never be Angelus. Because he was the whole damn show. And no matter how far ahead of the game she thought she was, he was always just one step further.