Eager, Young, and Qualified

VOW Presents

A Casanova English Original

Eager, Young, and Qualified

I took the time in Canada to come back
home. To the Island that I grew up on. It might sound egotistical but
I love rolling around in a limo. Rubbing it in the faces of the
people who judged me because of who my mother is. I just got off the
phone with Bryan Combs who was hassling me for an interview he could
air at Heatstroke. He says I am insane to be calling out Ziu. Why
would I enter for those first five minutes of the match with a man I
have never pinned? I know I can beat Zhong. I know that I can clip
those wings and allow gravity to take effect. The pictures, the self
indulgence, the pretty little “American dream” family, the
annoying fucking chant. It all has to stop, it rings around in my
head mocking me. I have the chance to finally prove I am the most
dominate wrestler in VOW. I hold the most wins, yet management
refuses to pay me my due. This cute little name they came up with “6
Vision's of Pain” haha. So scary! There has only ever been one
vision, I chose this place as my platform a long time ago, and I'm a
long way from the end of my story.

They have given me the perfect
opportunity though. They plucked the top six in VOW and they tossed
them into one shit show of a match in the hopes that I won't walk out
the clear cut winner. We all know the out come. Everyone can do it in
a night, but constancy is the key to success in wrestling. It's all
about endurance, all about how well you preform night in and night
out. You don't beat someone for the World Visionary Championship then
loose to a child the following week. It's not running away from this
company because you happen to face consecutive losses. At Heatstroke
I will remind everyone just who put this company on the map.

Andrew hasn't been talking to me a lot,
it has made my stay at home awkward to say the least. I love how
uncomfortable I have made him. He came running to his big brother
with a problem and I wiped that problem from existence. Some people
aren't strong enough for the cause. I am beginning to see that, I'm
not stupid. I see the lady in black drifting from the pack. They are
trying to weaken my flock, but that's Darwin in action isn't it? The
weak fall off, they wander away from the path only to get crushed by
the bulldozer later. Andrew was still looking out the window as he
spoke.

“I can't believe you fucking killed
him.”

“Whoa! Keep it down little brother.
For the record I didn't kill anyone. I didn't lift a finger. Besides,
you came to me with a problem. Poor mommy was in over her head, so I
made sure the situation was taken care of. Don't treat me like the
bad guy, I get enough of that at work.”

I shake my head at the idea of those
fans that disdain me. It's been a year and still they can't see their
own ignorance.

“Well whatever, you put a hit on him.
. .”

“Wrong again little boy. I have
merely shared my perspective. I dropped a little intelligence on the
right people. The people who have been busing tables for Hollywood
stars for 20 years who had more acting chops than De Niro; or the
poor old bastard getting his job cut a year before his pension pays
out. See I merely expose the world as corrupt and these men followed.
They followed because that is what they have always done, that is
what society has trained them to do since day one. I am offering an
opportunity to be a part of change. So maybe one day our children
can grow up in a world that is a lot more equal than it is now. It's
that old fucking cliché “you want peace, prepare for war.”

“That's fucked. You prey on the
people you claim you are saving.”

“I do what the world has done to
people like us. People who grow up in poverty. A sheep became a wolf,
and the rest of you are just going to have to adjust. You had a
problem, now mom is safe. I didn't let her get raped in the next
room.”

“It has nothing to do with that. . .”

I didn't know he could remember, I
hoped he was too young. To young to see the memory as vivid as I.

“I want to get her help. I don't want
to just off the guy. I want to get her help once and for all. I want
to send her away. I will pay half. Let's go see her today and talk to
her. We can get her some help. I can pay you back, we can send her
somewhere nice and I will pay half back.”

I used to think you can save everyone.
I was wrong, dead wrong. Some people are better off sick, because the
process in reconstructing them constantly causes them to face their
own sad mortality when a few months later they pick up that same drug
and let it initiate anarchy within your already jumbled mind. People
constantly want you for something. When you are on top of the world
there is always someone there with their hand out. My brother just
called me a killer, called me sick. He thinks I am a psychopath and
yet he is more than willing to take the money I have bled for.

“Fine.”

He looks at me eyes wide, shocked I
caved so easily. I always have a plan though. I always have something
up my sleeve. He want's mom fixed, I'll fix her. I am going to do it
my way.

“Really Cassidy? Thank you. I really
mean that. Let's stop by her place tonight, you think you could set
it up that quick.”

“Well I have a big match, but I think
I can swing it. After this though I'm done. I fix our mother, turn
her into the heart warming house wife you always wanted her to be and
I wash my fucking hands with this family. No more showing up on my
door step with problems for me to solve. After Heatstroke I could be
World Champion again, and I won't let that power slip again. I can't.
You understand?”

I know he didn't. How could he fathom
walking in my shoes. We took the same path side by side, but somehow
the skin you are in makes all the difference. I do this, and I fly to
Quebec. I prepare for my match with VOW's top 5.

“I understand.”

It's high time I pick up the whip.

The place my mom was “living” in is
a complete dump, but what did I expect? It's not like she's doing
bumps with Tommy Lee Jones, she's doing rails with Tommy Lee McPhee
who lives in the trailer park off of route two with the hole in the
roof that used to be a god damn sky light. It was a motel, a string
of rooms all connected side by side with thin walls. So thin you can
hear every snore and orgasm that floated through the whole place.
Andrew smiled at me as he knocked on the door, trying to add some
light to the situation. There was no answer after the first three
pounds so I turned to walk away, but Andy grabbed my shoulder to stop
me. He sighed loud and pounded on the door again another three times.
This time I could hear the rusting, her tiny little feet dragging on
he floor. With a grunt she swings the door open. Her eyes are at our
feet, but she slowly looks up into the faces of her sons. She blinks
a few times to ensure she's not dreaming, that this isn't another
drug induced mirage.

“Hey mom.”

Andy says, but she throws her arms
around me. It's been a long time since we last saw each other. I
don't embrace her at first, but she is my mom; I pull her close not
saying anything. She lets me go and moves to Andy grabbing him close
and kissing him on the cheek.

“Come in boys, come in. This is an
amazing surprise. I didn't have time to clean up. I've uh been
staying here for the past few weeks. You know that Andy, you know
that. I. . . well just come in come in quick Cassidy.

She grabs us both by the wrist slightly
and uses all she has to haul us into the small room. Her cheek bones
peaked out past last night's make up. My mothers bleach blond hair
was thin, and losing it's luster at the roots to age. What surprised
me was how much life was still in those eyes, like she could keep
doing this forever.

“I'm in a little bit of trouble, you
know Cass classic fucked up mommy bullshit.”

She let out an uncomfortable laugh as I
plopped down in plush chair with the legs missing. I toss my feet up
on the small coffee table littered with bits of tobacco, and dust
from whatever pills she could scrape up. Andy sits on the couch
opposite as mom stands at the small corner that is a sad excuse for a
kitchen. Just a small stove, microwave, and a fridge.

“Coffee?”

My mom always tried to act like nothing
was wrong, most of my family did that a lot of the time. That is why
they weren't around for my Uncle's sickness. That is why it took them
so long to gain custody. I saved myself, just as much as they saved
me.

I saved Andy.

“No thank you mom. We are alright I
think.”

Andy asks for me. I'm not ready to
speak yet. I'll wait for that opportunity. My mom saunters over to
the couch her gray gym pants tied tight to her waist so they don't
slip down past her hip bones.

“I owe a little bit of money. . . but
I am getting. I'm getting it I don't need any help.”

She sits close to Andy, knowing that
she still has him wrapped around her crooked little finger.

“You have nothing to worry about
anymore mom.”

“What do you mean? Did you. . . don't
tell me you paid him.”

She acted like she was concerned that
someone would bail her out. That's bullshit, that is the typical
addict sympathy act. The I will get better now crap, you know the
part where they say it's all in perspective now. I'm older, I'm
smarter. . . I can break her.

“Haven't you been watching the news?
Alexander Rudolf is dead.”

“What? Did you? Did he?”

She looks at me confused.

“No, no. They say he was poisoned at
some diner. You know full well what kind of business he was running.
Maybe it was a sign from God. A sign that you should get better, this
could be your chance.”

She looks at Andy, putting on the full
show. The watery eyes, the quivering lip, she runs her toxic pale
hands through my brothers hair.

“Yeah, yeah maybe I'll star tomorrow.
I'll start getting better and I won't have to hide out like a freak
anymore.”

She was bluffing, but I already made
the call. They where waiting outside to take her to the facility.

“Well mom that is why we came her.
Cassidy set up something, we are going to send you to a beautiful
rehab facilty on the west coast. I really think it would be good for
you. Cassidy already spent the money.”

“No, I can't just up and leave.”

“Think about it, just because Rudolf
is gone doesn't mean his next in line doesn't come collecting. Maybe
your debt means a lot more to him than Rudolf. No offense, but you
are pretty damn good at digging a hole.”

“You are going mom. This isn't a
fucking negotiation. I am exhausted of trying to solve your problems
and this is my last offer. This is your last chance to keep your son.
This is a chance to not die alone. Do you have any idea what is going
on with my life? Do you have any idea how successful I have become? I
was a World Visionary Champion. I am going into a huge match, and I
have to come back here and try and deal with this shit.”

I pull a red pack of cancer from my
pocket and pull one out placing it in my lips. My mom was almost
sobbing now as I pushed the pack her way with one coffin nail poking
out of the package slightly. Her cracked nails pitch it and pull it
to her stained red lips. She goes to speak but I cut her off.

“Shhhh! It's my turn to talk still
mother.”

I ignite a flame close to her face. She
jumps back a bit but I push the fire to the end of the cigarette,
before bringing my own to life. Andy shook his head, but he knows
better not to interrupt.

“Finish your cigarette. The limo will
take you to the airport.”

I stand up puffing on my cigarette
lightly blowing small trails into the room. I grab the door knob
pulling it open. I stop for a minute blowing a huge plume of smoke
into the air.

“Bye, mom.”

I walk out of the room, back into the
streets I used to roam as a child. Inhaling the night air I am
finally feeling like I can leave this all behind. I have a plan for
my mother. Andrew wanted my help, then things will be done my way.
Then I'm done. I've fixed this family. I have my own flight to catch,
to Quebec.

The revolution continues.

The Modern Day Messiah reclaims the
throne, and those who called him a false prophet will suffer for
their doubt.

Most of the members of the VOW roster
are probably in grander parts of Quebec City or Montreal. When I am
in Quebec I always find myself wander the street of Old Quebec, a
world historic sight. The stone buildings remind me of how simple
things used to be. It reminds me of hard work and dedication, but the
thing I loved about Quebec the most is the separatist ideology. See
Quebec for a long time refused to be part of Canada, and to this day
still some hope to separate. They claim the are completely
sustainable, they have their own traffic laws, their own language for
Christ sake. They do everything they can to stick out, to separate
themselves from the other provinces. At a time like this it's great.
It reminds me of where this all began. It all began with the want for
change, and a little company that promised a new vision. . . but
clearly wasn't delivering. I changed all that. I made this company
unique despite the critics who think I am bland, that my “gimmick”
has been done before. If they only knew how real this has become, how
far past wrestling it has reached. The strange thing is though. . .
it all comes down to a square and what I can do to manipulate the
people inside it. It's funny, it's like a giant metaphor for thinking
outside of the box.

Off by a lake there is a wooden bench,
I walk over to it slowly as to enjoy the scenery and the pure air. I
was about to ruin that though. Pulling a signature white stick from
my pocket and putting it in the edge of my mouth. I bring it to light
sighing softly about the routines of life. I set up the cam corer on
the edge of a stump and point in the direction of the bench. I sit on
the bench, leaning back. An array of small stone buildings are behind
me and I am dressed to fit in with them. My black dress shirt is
rolled up to the elbows and my tight black khakis cling down to great
my shiny leather boots.

“Bonjour Visionnaires de Wrestling
fans. It seems I am being given a chance to redeem myself. I may not
have the one on one match I want and deserve with that sad excuse of
a Champion Ziu Zhong. No, management couldn't give me that. Instead I
am forced to be in the ring with five other men, one of witch is a
brother. A member of The Orphanage. The sabotage won't work, it's a
sad plan and when I walk out of Heatstroke two time World Visionary
Champion, and I set VOW back into proper alignment. I don't even
know how they go about determining who to put in these matches
anymore.”

“Do you really think Stacy Jones
deserves to be here? She got her ass kicked by Ryder Blade two times.
Actually come to think about it Mr. Blade has put down Ziu, Valquist,
and Stacy. Logic just seems a little flawed here. Maybe there isn't
a conspiracy and VOW management is just fucking stupid. Three of my
opponents have been beaten by a fucking man child. Stacy Jones has
been chasing me for a long time. She put together some team that I
have already made an after thought. I orchestrated your downfall with
bringing Matt Robinson into VOW. I made you look like a fool at Fate
of the God's when I beat both Gaia and you. I don't even think this
is about the strap for you. No, I think you just want to get your
hands on Carson and I. You want to take a chunk out of what has done
so much damage to your family and friends. Well I am sorry sister,
but it is going to be a lot of the same thing. You keep telling these
people you are going to stop me, what has it been sic months now? You
became so obsessed with The Orphanage you lost your belt, and baby if
you come looking for me. I promise I will be the last thing that you
see.”

I blow a plume of smoke into the camera
and sigh softly.

“You have been so lost in your little
lesbian love affair that you have let wrestling become an after
though. Love kills more dreams than anything else. So what kind of
state is poor little Stacy's mind going to be in when she witnesses
her two love birds rip each others feathers out earlier in the night?
I know how much the outside world builds up in that little head when
you are in that ring. Let's face it Stacy come the main event your
mind will be too tired to carry that body down that ramp, and if it
does The Orphanage is going to embarrass you again, and there will be
no little slut left to lick your. . . . wounds. Do yourself a favor
call up Lexi Peral. . . try not to fuck her you little tramp. . . and
beg for a shot at the Zero Gravity Championship. After Heatstroke
that is the only division you will be fit to compete in.”

I tap the ash off my cigarette, and my
mind floats quickly over my Vow career. To all the people I have had
the opportunity to prove wrong. I can't help but think of a few
months ago, before my final show down with V. Seth Iser sat across
from me and warned me.

“Seth Iser, god I will hear your
knees creaking a mile away. It must be getting hard to sneak up on
the youngsters these days. Seth I remember you telling me to be
careful, to be careful of what I could unlock from Vanessa. Well I
spat on you advice, I went and I danced with the deranged diva and
you want to know what happened? I ended her fucking career. I took
the World Visionary Championship and I blasted it across her pretty
little face smearing her foundation with blood. It was death by
diamonds and pearls, god damn poetic. You made it seem like she would
kill me, like she would rip my intestines out and use them as
skipping rope, but old man times have changed. There is a new breed
and things are starting to be done differently. I see how hard it is
for you to adjust, I see how you can barely handle a full time
wrestling schedule. It's cruelty is what it is, if they legalize
assistant suicide and you need a hand please don't hesitate to ask.
There was a time that people feared you, that the name Seth Iser made
the hair on your back stand up, but the truth is you can't teach and
old dog new tricks. You took too many bumps and it's all catching up.
I know for a fact we aren't far off from seeing the final glory run
of Seth Iser. I know you got one more big win left in you, but it
isn't at Heatstroke. No, it;s still my time.”

“I get it I get it over a decade ago
you laid the foundation for people like me to walk in here and make a
living by being a professional asshole. Thanks Sethy that was mighty
golden of you, but the truth is that doesn't make you immune. That
doesn’t make you omnipotent. You are a legend I will give you that,
you are an icon. I know you are going to keep pushing, keep going
till you push out that final gust of dust filled oxygen left in your
lungs, I just hope for your sake Seth I’m not the one that has to
beat it out of you. The deity will die, long live The Messiah.”

“Brett Carson. Look at what we have
built together. When VOW first started you where on a loosing streak,
there people begged for your death. I saw something in you no one
else did. I say the raw potential. I saw “The Next Level Athlete”.
This is your home town and this is your chance to shine. Ryan Omega
thinks that this is going to cause a rift in The Orphanage, but it's
not about me walking out with that belt. As long as my organization
has the championship it shows how much power we have. It shows how I
can not only bring greatness to myself, but I have the ability to
provide that opportunity to others. Brett is the perfect example of
that. He put down Stacy, he beat Rayne, Brett Carson continues to
prove he is the future of this company, and if his time is at
Heatstroke I will accept that happily and I will support Carson.
Brett has been the perfect solider, I scouted him the moment I walked
into this company. He was young, brash, arrogant, and he backed up
every single thing he has said. Hell he even has a win over Valquist,
but then again I am beginning to wonder who won't have a win over
that hack. Carson has done everything I have asked for him, and to
deprive him of his rightful opportunity at the championship would be
wrong. That is not leadership, that is dictatorship. ”

I cringe slightly and blow smoke
between clenched teeth as I let out a sigh.

“However, if it's me and you in that
ring Carson. Toe to toe we both know what has to be done, we have
bled to much to be here. We have too much pride. If The Orphanage has
to fight each other we will, we will for the greater cause. To show
these people what we are willing to do to take control. This is our
house, we built it. . . and we will make sure at the end of
Heatstroke these people know it.”

I ash my cigarette unbuttoning the top
button of my shirt before I get into this next one. I don't
understand how people get special treatment in this company. How the
powers that be seem to pick names from hats and allow these fans to
determine their product far too much. I take a few sharp puffs off
my cancer stick.

“Valquist. Now. . . after your first
stint with this company I didn't expect to see your face around here
again. I assumed we had embarrassed you enough. What was it three
losses in a row before you took your ball and ran home, unable to
handle the heat in the kitchen. What happens when you loose at
Heatstroke for consecutive loss number four? Do you vanish again to
the city in the clouds? I sure hope so. See when I signed on the
dotted line with Visionaries of Wrestling I understood that your
prior accomplishments elsewhere didn't matter. They didn’t
determine where you stand on the roster, but the truth is that's
bullshit. It's not just with you either. . . it started with V. They
treated her like royalty because of her personal history with VOW
management and her prior wrestling accomplishments. Then there is
Seth Iser who made his ancient ass into this match based mostly on
what he has done elsewhere, because let's be honest Seth you and I
both know your body has been caching up awfully quick lately. You
don't belong here Val. Valquist I need to make this clear because I
am not sure you have been WATCHING VOW long enough, but last year at
Heatstroke VOW's first PPV I headlined. My point is I am the only
REAL home grown elite superstar this hell hole sad excuses for an
organization has produced. I called out other companies making it
abundantly clear that this is where the big boys play. What the fuck
have you down for this company? What exactly makes there people think
you shit gold? You are a 42 year old man, who got where he was in ICW
because he probably bought shares. Your Infinity City Wrestling
legacy means nothing to me. This is a new breed, a new wave of talent
that has already made it so clear you are past your prime. What I am
saying is you don't come into my company and tell me how to main
event, and then go on to loose it makes VOW look pathetic. You have
proved nothing here and you don't deserve to be in this main event.”

“You walk around with this false
sense of entitlement. Your biggest claim to fame is beating Ryder
Blade. In Infinity City you might be the biggest hero, but out here
in the real world you are just an insignificant little dot. Don't
worry, I will elaborate that philosophy physically at Heatstroke.
I'll have Chris whats his name do your eulogy Valerie.”

I toss my cigarette to the ground
stomping on it hard, shaking my head at the thoughts of VOW's golden
child. The nauseatingly marketable Ziu Zhong. He took my championship
from me, and he caused doubts within my flock. He has made this much
more about gold, he has made it personal.

“Wow, Mr. Zhong off to a bad start.
What happened at Breakthrough? I told you when you face me I change
something. I know you were not yourself, you lost to Ryder Blade. In
my honest opinion he made you look like a joke. He made me feel like
shit I have yet to pin you to the mat, but I know I did my part. At
Heatstroke when we enter that ring first, and I have those five
minute to prove to you I am the biggest threat to not only your
championship, but your career, and your family. Ziu, you are the
manufactured piece of crap shoved down their throats of these fans
since you walked through those doors. VOW management latched onto you
like you were their savior, but what about me what about Casanova?
They want to undercut everything I have done. . . I put this company
on the map. I headlined the first PPV against PKA, I beat their first
major marketing scheme in Star, and I destroyed the female wrestling
Icon V. I challenged GPW and I made it clear. . . crystal clear this
is the place to prove your worth. Still you hold the door open for
Ziu Zhong, you grant him a World Visionary Championship match after
he looses the ZG Title. After I just finished a brutal match with
competitors from outside this company? I hold the most wins in VOW
and still you try and claim Ziu Zhong is the best we have to offer.
Still you try and push names like Valquist? It's okay though, I'm not
bitter. As I have said before it's all about constancy. I show up
every night, not just when the championship is on the line. I pour my
heart and soul into that ring for my cause, not just for the
championship to call myself the best in the world. No, I am bigger
than a championship Ziu. I am bigger than VOW can even understand.
You walk around with a smile on your face snapping pictures, and you
see how long your day in the sun lasts. I wonder what happens when
you have no gold. When there is nothing to fight for is Ziu Zhong
that same warrior he always is? Last week you lost to a child, to the
second tier champion. If there is one thing I know about this sport
Ziu it is decent is a lot faster than the rise. I guess what I am
trying to say is. . .take a picture it will last longer."

I laugh to myself looking deep into the
camera.

“At Heatstroke I will make it clear
to VOW, and the people around the world watching that I am the
definition of what it takes to be a champion in this company. I will
be the face of VOW. . .

I'm eager, young, and qualified.”

I smile reaching my arm out to flick
the camera off. This is my opportunity to silence everyone who has
ever doubted me. This is my chance to leave behind a legacy. This is
my chance to be remembered.

~Epilogue~

BEFORE THE FLIGHT TO QUEBEC

It was an hour after the boys left that
Casanova's mother walked out to the front of the small motel with a
red suitcase of belongings in hand. The driver of the limo walked to
great her, the same gentleman that took Mr. Rudolf for his ride to
the diner a few weeks back to be exact.

Ms. Jones: Oh, thank you sir.

Driver: My pleasure miss.

He nods his head politely as he swings
the door open for the mother of his cult leader. Slowly Casanova’s
mom drags her fragile little body into the limo. She lets out a small
scream looking across to Corpse who's hear was touching the roof.

Corpse: Sorry to startle you mam. I am
a friend of your sons. He is a great man, he saved me mam. I was just
a homeless man in the gutter and he picked me up and made me
something. I used to have problems with addictions too.

Ms Jones: Oh, well that is good.

She says feeling awkward. She closes
her eyes and opens them again looking at Corpse who is bug eyed not
taking his eyes off of her.

Corpse: We are going to fix you right
up Ms. Jones.

Ms Jones: Isn't the airport the other
way?

Corpse: Change of plans actually miss.
We are going to treat you hear. Mr. English request that we take you
to our Quebec facility.

Ms Jones: Quebec facility?

She questions looking out of the window
at where they are heading.

Corpse: Well this is where things get a
little bit awkward.

Corpse pushed a sack over Ms. Jones
head who kicks and thrashes, but Corpse engulfs her with his body.

Corpse: Just relax no one is going to
hurt you. You just can't see where we are going. Shhh.

Ms. Jones gives up and stops fighting
something she was all to accustom to doing. Soon the limo door is
casually unsealed by the driver and Corpse leads Ms. Jones from the
limo to the doorway of a warehouse. Ms. Jones finds her boney bottom
slammed into a cold metal chair. Straps are tightened around her arms
as she begins to object screaming. A metal device is placed over her
face that forces her eyelids open, the lights in the warehouse go out
and Ms. Jones freaks out screaming like a pig being slaughtered.
Faint foot steps are heard and she stops the screaming. Now it's only
heavy breaths until a voice reaches out from the dark abyss.

English: Hello mommy.

Casanova flicks a television on. At
first it's just static and white noise, but then images begin to
flash rapidly.