“Hey, Dad, long time no see,” Aires Allocco greeted his father as the bald genetic monstrosity wandered up the cracked asphalt of the ranch home he had occupied for the past few years. Children’s toys littered the front yard, partially inflated balls, big plastic vehicles, and a jump rope to name a few items. Adam always forgot he had grandchildren. He counted three, but surely there were more. He also didn’t stop to consider the many bastards he have sowed in the wombs of nameless one night stands. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to imagine all the back child support waiting to bury him in an early grave. It was why, when he was cruised the bars and clubs while on tour, he used an alias. Nothing could trace them back to him, unless they turned on the television and changed it to Breakdown, and see his handsome mug for the first time since that fateful night time encounter.
“I thought it might be overdue. We haven’t spoken in years. I know, I should have put more of an effort to check in with you but the telephone rates in Russia are killer. The phone companies are more of an oppressor than Putin, let me tell you,” Adam winked. Joking. Putin was very oppressive, majestically so.
His eldest son shrugged his shoulders. He sprayed the soap suds off the shiny yellow paint of his Ford Mustang. Adam hated the new Mustangs. They lacked the charm of the old sports cars. And none of these hybrid self-driving clown cars had anything on the environment-hating muscle cars of his youth.
Without exchanging any looks with his father, Aires asked the all important question: “What do you need?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not gullible like Alistaire was. You only come around when you need me for something. I’m just another one of your marks, right? Wasn’t that why you got buddy buddy with your long neglected son when you knew I was running Majestic? Make up for lost time, you said, but the moment the company folded, you were gone,” Aires explained. He turned the hose off, returned it to its home on the plastic rack attached to the side of the house.
“I think that’s a pretty gross misrepresentation. I couldn’t care less about your wrestling promotion. I already knew it’d fail. Because If I couldn’t keep one a float, I doubt any of my sons could.”
“Thanks for show of faith.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It sounded like you did.”
“Look, I get it, running a promotion with a bunch of socially awkward egomaniacs, who overvalue themselves and do nothing to deserve their pay grade and their spot on the card is rough. It gets to people. I struggled with it. You probably did a better job than me, with all things considered,” Adam said. He tried to change gears, navigate away from his son’s sore spot. Of course, he was sore, he failed as a business owner. Most people are oblivious to the fact that when you’re a small business owner, your self-worth is directly tied to your business’s performance. That’s why when Oblivion was on the verge of bankruptcy, Adam allowed himself to sell out to SCW. He had little self-respect during those dark days.
“That wasn’t the issue.”
“I’m sure you did your best.”
“I wish that was sincere.”
“It is, it is,” Adam assured. A short laugh was the only response he garnered. Aires floated around the back of the car, where he picked up a cloth and wax. Adam stiffly circled around to watch his son apply the wax to the car in a loving, gentle way, basically caressing his mechanical baby. “Are my grand babies anywhere around?” Please, no. I don’t want to see those little hyperactive demons running around at my feet, trying to trip me with their stupid lack of self-awareness.
“They’re not babies anymore. And no, I don’t have them this weekend. Thank god, I really didn’t want to explain to them who you are. They think you’re dead, and I’m fine with that,” Aires said. Adam’s jaw dropped. He felt the insult. Then again, he had treated the kids as if they were dead too so it was a two-way street of indifference. Still, this treatment seemed very disrespectful to the family patriarch. Kids these days don’t respect their parents.
“She left you?”
“Oh yes, she did. You would have known if you know, stuck around.”
“Look, I get resentment. I never was really there for you when you were a boy, but that was your mother’s fault! She thought I would serve as a bad influence on you, and from the sounds of things, the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. You’re handsome, you’re strong, you’re smart, but you fail as a promoter and a husband. It’s because both roles tried to limit our pure awesomeness,” Adam put his hands on his hips and smiled. He found some joy in their shared similarity. Aires, however, finally looked up from his chore to give Adam a dead stare. He didn’t share that joy with him. I should had pulled out, the thought quickly passed through Adam’s mind.
“You really know how to pile on there, pops.” Suck it up, soft-serve. Life’s tough. Not my fault.
“Listen, there’s actually something you could help me out with. I hate to come around here, asking you anything after not making contact for almost ten years, BUT I assure you, I’m not asking for the world here,” Adam decided to cut to the chase. He didn’t want to humor his loser son any further with his little pity party. While he feigned pain over the fact his son believed he had come to visit with ulterior motives, it was the truth. But it paled in comparison to the obligation Aires should have felt towards him. He DID bring Aires into this world.
“I knew it.”
“A-Plus deduction, son. You should have been a detective. Sherlock Holmes, or something.”
“Sarcasm, huh?”
“You’re forgiven.”
“What?”
“I mean, you’re welcome?”
“Enough, get to the point. What do you need?” Aires snapped. Adam slapped his hand across his chest, scoffed at Aires and his lack of matters. His mother was bitch and he must have inherited her character flaws.
“As you might know, I have a big match this Thursday night and—”
“— I didn’t know. I don’t follow your career.”
“Well, bless your ignorance, but let me enlighten you, son. I’m defending my prestigious championship against Christy Matthews, a broad that I knew you had a run within. Look, nothing wrong with pulling a little bit of an Harvey and sleep with the talent; hell, I did it when I held authority and it was amazing all the doors and legs that power opens up,” Adam explained. To be clear, he NEVER forced any woman under to have sexual relations with her. He hinted strongly though, he could be swayed with favors. They made their choice to chase after that brass cockring.
“We were friends. That’s all.”
“Right. Wink wink. Nudge nudge.”
“Seriously.”
“If you don’t want to be honest about your sex life with your old man, that’s fine. ALL I need to know is where her spot is and I can be on my merry way, get out of your hair,” Adam asked. Yes, he flew half-way across the country in order to find the truth. Sure, a phone call would have sufficed for most dads, but Adam knew that the moment he delivered that hard question, Aries would get embarrassed and hang up. He can’t hang up on him now.
“Spot? What are you talking about?”
“Everyone has one. Mine is when the babe nibbles on my ear. Your mother’s spot was right behind the—”
“You made your point. No, I don’t know where Christy’s spot. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. I’m telling you.”
“I get it, it’s real honorable not kissing and telling. Hell, I gotten myself in share of trouble because I couldn’t keep my lips sealed when it come to some of my more dangerous rendezvouses.”
“I’m not bullshiting you, dad. I don’t know anything about her kinks or her likes. I don’t know even why you need to know this. What? You plan on trying to turn her on during the match. That’s down straight awful!” Aires reacted. He dropped the bucket and the rag inside. Pure astonishment seized his face, he really never knew his dad was such a bastard.
“I wasn’t going to take advantage of her sexually, just using a little distraction to break her focus. It’s all about mind games, Aries. See if you knew a little more about getting the head of your employees, you could have tricked them to do the work,” Adam answered. He didn’t know what was so wrong with his plan. The way Aires responded made it seem like Adam was spiking her drink to take her back to his hotel room and do her dirty. Everyone took everything to its extreme. Nuance was dead in today’s discourse. Everything had to good and evil, black and white!
“That’s not that much better.”
“Fine! I get it! You’re petty enough to not help your father. Go back to your self-victimizing narrative. Be a divorced piece of shit who’s prized possession is his stupid little budget sports car,” Adam spoke in a high pitch, mocking voice. He shook fists underneath his eyes, pretending to cry. Aires’s face withered in confusion and offense. “No, nothing you can say now will restore the respect I once had for you.”
“You can fuck off now.”
“Yep, that’s it. Right there, mister. You luck that I don’t bring you over my knee and give you some spanks,” Adam threatened. Aires by this time had returned to the hose. He raised the nozzle and pointed the gun towards his father. “I mean— come on, Aires. Don’t soak me. These are nice clothes. I don’t have a spare set with me, they’re all dirty—”
Aires blasted Adam in the face with the hose, leaving Adam shivering in drenched clothes. The water had been ice cold, cold enough to have his dick shiver up into his body. He glared his son down before throwing his hand towards the direction. He abandoned his eldest, just like he should have done when he was born, that is abandoning him on the side of the mountain. The rental car that waited at the street’s curb erupt in laughter at Adam’s sorry shape. Anastasia, Bison, and Natalya joined. Natalya stepped out from the driver’s seat to point and laugh at him.
“Hey, wait, is that the whore you brought to my wedding?”
“Nope—”
“Hi, Aires! Nice to see you again! We should catch up—” Natalya started but Adam basically tackled her against the car’s exterior. He raised his finger up. He was going to draw the line right here and right now. There was no way that his new boss was gonna get friendly with his least favorite child. He had enough of a hassle with Alistaire, which he only invested effort in because Alistaire was in a better position to help him out. If Aires hadn’t sucked at running a promotion, maybe he would be the favorite.
“See you in another ten years, son! Hope you’re less of a dick then!”
“Yeah! Fuck you too Dad!”
——————————————–
Quarter a bottle of Jacky D’s. Collect call. Heavy breathing.
“Damn it, Adam, why are you calling me,” Vanessa questioned.
“It’s Dad. Like, Hi, I’m Dad.”
“You’re going to say something reprehensible that leads me cursing your name and hanging up on you. Let’s just get to the ‘fuck you’ and good–”
Adam interrupted her: “No! For once, I need you!”
“What?”
“I finally found how you can repay me for all the years I was a good father to you. You can give me some advice. I’m grasping at straws here and your insight… well, could help me greatly,” Adam said.
Vanessa hummed on the other hand. She finally got her father’s undivided attention for the first time in 20 years. “I would love to give you my expert opinion.”
“Enlighten me. Guessing that you have a lot of dike friends, and I’m wondering, is there’s any bona fide go-to switches for a lesbian”
“I do?”
“Yes, I know… I was surprised too to learn you have multiple friends.”
“Wait, go-to switches?”
“Yeah, you know, the soft spot. To make them randy.”
“No. No! I’m not having this conversation with you, Dad. Get a life—” BEEP. Adam stared at his cell phone. He tossed it down onto his bed. Why wouldn’t any of his children lend him a helping hand? The ungrateful lot— he would have turned to Alistaire for some help, but Ali didn’t even know what to do with Peyton Rice. He was clueless to the needs of the fairer sex.
——————————————–
REPORT: *REDACTED* DEBRIEFING *REDACTED*
*REDACTED* collect called his daughter *REDACTED* and immediately engaged in highly questionable conversation. The subject of the discourse clearly made his daughter uncomfortable. Is this man really working for the Russians?
——————————————–
Out before Adam, stood the city of Knoxville, the location for the next chapter in Adam’s epic tale as the undisputed Television Champion of the World. The city lights, be it the street lights, the traffic lights, or the neon lights, all cast Adam’s face in a colorful glow. He wore his sunglasses at night, so he could keep track of the visions in his eyes. He nodded towards Bison, giving him the signal to start recording.
[REC]
He sucked in a deep sigh. Slowly removed his shades without looking at the camera. His aging face wrinkled in deep contemplation. For a moment, he reminded himself of the immense pressure being placed on him to succeed. He had critics to silence. He had backers to satisfy. And most of all, he had an ego to feed.
“Well play, Mr. Douche. Well play,” Adam greeted the camera. He lifted his hands beside his head, started the softest golf clap imaginable. “First, Ravyn… now, Christy?”
“It has become painfully obvious that management has decided to harass me, creating a potentially hostile work environment. Now, if I was a millennial snowflake, I might take legal action against my abusive employer, but no, I won’t do that. I’m a working man. Blue collar. All that snazz. Of course, I hate my boss. Everyone does. AND I know the best way to stick it to Lil’ D is to preserve his unfair treatment of me, the outrageous harassment by his cronies, and succeed like none other son of bitch has before. So… basically, keep doin’ what I’ve been doin’,” Adam determined. He ran his hand across the rail of the balcony. The down Nashville streets were clogged with pedestrians. All oblivious that an A-List celebrity was watching from above.He nodded, accepting this calling in life. He planned on making Mr. D’s return to the driver’s seat a burning car wreck.
“That spells bad news bears for you, Christy.”
Adam grinned. “You don’t understand? Well, let me enlighten you.”
“You see, I want to trigger bossman by becoming the greatest Television champion in history. I want his hand to be forced to treat this belt up there with the World and the United States. OhhhhOH, I’m Half-Way There! He thought this belt was a cheap novelty, something designed to fill up the TV time, and for too long, , the company treated it as an afterthought. But not anymore, because my daring and incredible performances in defense of this title belt has made the TV Title a hot topic. Everyone is wanting to get their grubby hands on my belt.”
“That includes you, Christy.”
“And I bet you see this as simply a stepping stone, an ignition switch to rocket back up to the top of the food chain. But that’s the problem, you don’t particularly care about this belt. Sure, you’d probably give a half-assed effort as a champion, defending it as mandatory, a kid washing dishes, but your eyes would always be fixated on the horizon. The belt would be held hostage in the same way the United States is held captive by Xander and the World Title is trapped around Asher’s undeserving waist while Cid watches Asher claim his belt from the corner of the bedroom,” Adam said. He released a short laugh, as if he found the title scene to be a joke. He watched amazing talent go through this company, many that he had a hand in creating, but lately, business has soured. The quality of champions reduced and only he had been the silver lining in all of the madness. He has been the only man proven worthy of being a champion in Supreme Championship Wrestling. Why can’t people see that?
“It’s a shame though, Christy. I remember when you first appeared on my radar, you were working for my eldest and messing around with him in order to ascend the ladder faster. You were good, and I respect the hustle in making such shameless advances but I never saw that same eagerness in SCW. I saw toughness, that’s for sure. Every Christy Matthews match used to be watching a Die Hard film, you being the female John McClane of course, pulling off gutsy win after gutsy win. But that isn’t really the case anymore, is it? Christy Matthews have been rendered as a whiner, a crybaby, a real sloppy mess.”
“I mean, what happened, Christy? You used to run with every opportunity afforded to you. Make the most out of everything. That was how you forced equality on the sport, putting women wrestlers on the same plane as the men. We all know everyone rewards Katie with the credit for tearing down the gender barrier in this sport, but I remembered that you were the real catalyst. Knocking down men twice, thrice your size as if it was a game of whack-a-moe. Pop! Bop! Boom! But not anymore. Not anymore,” Adam paused to lower his head. He shook it as if he had witnessed a tragedy. He kind of had. But it wasn’t just Christy, so many great stars have burned out and what has lasted is a cluster of blackholes sucking all the attention and opportunities from the real stars of the sport. Like himself.
“So what are you going to do, Christy? Are we gonna witness you finally waking up from your deep slumber for this match, take home the belt, and do what? Become complacent again? Become passive aggressive some more? Or are you gonna snap out of your comatose state, once and for all, and return to your pure aggression, bloody my lip and come in swinging!? I don’t care which you choose, because you see, I’m far from complacent. I have dreams. I have grand plans. And this SCW Television belt is coming along for the ride. You see I’m going to be the first ever, concurrent Supreme Champion. They’ll call me Adam All-Belts! And I’ll have to hire extra hands to carry all those title belts. In order to spurn the naysayers, those cocksuckers that stated that such a dream is impossible to achieve, I’m going to do it! I’m going to do it, shove all my title belts up their asses, Mr. D included to show them who’s the alpha, who’s the one true CHAD in professional wrestling. And I’ll give you a hint, it’s me.”
“Not you, Christy. Not Little D. Not Cuckles Turner and Asshole Hayes. Not “Perpetual Existential Crisis’ Cannon or that Giovanni Aires but with tits and dreads, but ME! Wrestling’s Enlightenment, the King of HARDStyle, yours truly, Adam ‘Tell Your Mom I Said HI’ Allocco.” Adam stopped, turned to the camera, and winked hard. He reminded himself to add a JJ Abarham-style lens glare for a long moment and a ‘high piano key’ sound effect later on in post-processing. Just in case the fans missed the gesture.
“The Television Championship stays where it belongs, whether it’s over my shoulder, around my waist, or hanging from my nine inch nail. As far as I am concerned, it’s going to adorn my body forever. This is my life’s work, after all. I let you know, I take challenges very personally. I’ve only hit my prime and I’m going to keep steamrolling challengers with my in-ring prowess. You’re not spared, Christy. And I let you know, unlike my limp dick son, I’m as hard and callous as they come. You’ll find out that the hard way on Breakdown, the whole world will be my witness.“
[/REC]
“I damn hope this Christy chick knocks you on your pretentious ass,” Bison commented as he powered down the camera. He chuckled at the thought. There was nothing better than envisioning Adam being owned. So far in his young career, Bison had seen it regularly, and it never got old.
“I love you too, boo. Glad you got my back.”
“Oh, don’t pull that card on me, dawg. I’ve saved your sorry ass more times than I count. Don’t begrudge me for enjoying the entertainment of you getting served.”
Adam shivered at the mention. “The only thing I’ve ever served was divorce papers from each of my ex-wives. Let’s not drum up the past, it’s a damn buzzkill. I’m ready to party tonight, enjoy what Nashville has to offer to its fullest. Are you with me?”
“Why don’t you rest? Big match tomorrow, with your precious on the line, against a top-calier opponent. Shouldn’t your preparation at least show some respect towards your opponent?” Bison suggested. He had already collapsed the tripod. He set the equipment right inside the suite before turning back towards Adam.
Adam stared him down, with a confused grimace. Suddenly, he slapped his knee and started laughing. “You got me. You really got me. I thought you were being serious.”
“I was.”
“Yeah, I never did homework. Can’t teach these old dogs any new tricks. Not like I need any more tricks, because I’ve been pulling off win and win lately, and the tank’s far from empty. Now let’s go!” Adam dismissed Bison’s concerns and entered the hotel room. From within, Bison heard Adam’s muffled shout inside, “Annie, baby, get your purse. We’re going out on the town tonight to celebrate my huge victory tomorrow! WOOO!”
“Cocky bastard,” Bison muttered as he returned to looking over the bustling city below. He missed Detroit. He missed his daughters. He even missed his damn ex-wife.
King of HARDstyle 
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