I Don't NEED A Crowbar.

Oh, joy, from a bad sport in Dustin Holt to an even worse one in Matt Robinson. I’m normally not this negative starting out things like this, but Jesus Christ of Nazareth almighty! You think you could take it down a notch with these pay-per-view matches? I have several questions as to why I’m not defending my title at Double Jeopardy, but as far as I know, none of them have been or are going to be answered. Am I nervous? You bet your rear-end I am! How could I, or anyone for that matter, not be? Robinson has a reputation for ending careers, and mine’s still young. It’d be like kicking a 2-month-old in that soft area on top of its head! But, it’s already on the card, and we can’t have a pay-per-view without all of the companies’ champions, and since I didn’t get to celebrate my nice win, I can only drive Matthew... er... insert middle name Robinson to chaos. You see, I’m trying to learn new moves where I can, and if there’s any one thing I learned from a certain Martyr, it’s his old finishing move. No, I haven’t seen him since Breakthrough 33, but alas, that doesn’t mean I can’t watch old footage.

Part I – A Quick Visit.

Date: January 22^rd, 2016, about 12 hours after Breakthrough 39 ended.

Location: Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Room 721.

It’s been nearly two months, and Mom has not been released from the hospital. It’s starting to get on my nerves a tad bit because Dad didn’t do THAT much damage. Don’t get me wrong; he did a bunch, but not enough to warrant almost two straight months of hospital time. Even then, let’s say he did, her wounds would have healed up almost completely by now. The only reason I could think of is that her pulmonary laceration hasn’t healed up, or has gotten worse, and that’s probably the reason her doctors are going to give me. I can only trust them since they ARE the best in the great state of Tennessee. That, and Stacy and I aren’t doctors ourselves, so who else can we trust with information about Mom’s health? That’s right, no one. So, to not make a bigger deal of this than it already is, I’ll just get to what we’re dressed in, since that seems to interest people: I went gamer today, wearing a blue t-shirt with Sonic the Hedgehog’s face on it... the classic Sonic, like the ones that were at Walmart for a bit, under the “Moicelle x Jones = My OTP 4ever” hoodie (still only $18.50 at the VoW shop!) which I basically designed, a pair of black ski pants, and a red Converse, and a black Converse. They’re obviously mismatched, but hey, anything for a Harley Quinn shout-out. Stacy was wearing her usual attire that was normal for her, in the form of a pair of black high heeled leather boots, a pair of skin tight black leather trousers, a black Trivium The Crusade T-shirt and a black leather jacket (she really does like her leather outfits, not that it wasn't obvious already). I thought it was nice, if a bit liberal, but c’ést la vie. We approached Mom’s doctor, as I was curious...

 “So, what’s the news, Doc? Not to sound pensive, but why is Mom still... here?”

 “Well, Ms. Montes, your mother’s laceration has gotten worse since she’s been here, and we’ve been debating whether or not we need to go ahead with surgery.”

I nod slowly, taking in every letter of every slightly accented word, especially that last one: S-U-R-G-E-R-Y.


“Doctor, if you need to take her under, then by all means. I just need to know if she’s still alive.”

Almost immediately after I say that...


"How in the Hell has the laceration gotten worse? Did it get infected or something? Shouldn't you be monitoring it so this kind of thing doesn't happen?"

Stacy snaps rather angrily at the doctor, I think she's still a bit miffed at yet another unfortunate loss on top of her little accident that resulted in her having to spend some time in the hospital herself. She's probably sick and tired of being cooped up in hospitals now, but of course, she chose to come with me on her own accord so she can be here for me and Mom.

“We’ve been monitoring it to the absolute best to our ability, Ms. Jones. We don’t expect these types of lacerations to get worse with time, as Ms. Montes well knows.”

 "Well can we at least see her?"

“Of course.” The doctor says before she moves out of the way of the door. We walk in and there she is, Jodie Montes. She lay practically motionless on the bed like she has for the past two months. I think I’m starting to grow numb to this sight at this point, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it still sinks my heart a bit.

"Are you going to be okay, hon?"

I hesitate ever so slightly before answering with:

“I’ll be fine. Want me to find you a seat?”

"I'm okay...what matters now is that she's comfortable, and you're comfortable...at least as comfortable as you can be. Have you spoken to your Dad lately?"

“He hasn’t called me in about a week, but when he called, he seemed fine. Somber is a nice word I’d use to describe his tone, still.”

"Has he even visited your Mom at all? Sounds like a rather harsh question to ask considering they're your parents...or is he so full of guilt that he can't face seeing her like this?"

“He’s a good man, I’m sure he has visited with her. I’m not sure; he doesn’t like to talk about this kind of stuff. If he has, I’ve never been with him. We could have asked the doctor out there.”

"I'm sure he is a good man, and I'm sure he has visited...sorry if that came across as hurtful..."

I put my hand up and shake my head slightly, as if to say “never mind, don’t worry about it.”

“Anything you would like to say to Mom while we’re here?”

"Of course..."

She turns her attention to Mom and takes her hand in hers.

"Jodie...it's Stacy...what am I saying, of course you know it's me. I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you every single day, and I can't wait for you to finally come around so you can see the promise ring I got for Katie. It's also my birthday soon, and I'd really like to see you for that too...I know we'll probably only get to see or just chat briefly, with me being on the road and all...but you're like my second Mom..."

A single tear slowly rolls down her cheek as she softly strokes my Mom's hand. I walk over to Stacy and rub her back as slowly as her tear rolls. Lovingly.

“That was beautiful, Stace. Practically took the words right out of my mouth.”

"She's going to be okay...she has plenty of people around her who love and care for her...she's strong, like you..."

“Well, Mom always told me she saw a lot of her in me…” I blush slightly as I state that.

"You definitely got her looks from her, she's very beautiful..."

“I know she is.”

Taking my hand in hers, she softly smiles at me.

"You know, I know that you have this special birthday treat for me all planned out and everything, but if you want to focus on taking care of your Mom, I understand..."

“I’m sure the doctors will take good care of her, like they’ve been doing. We aren’t doctors after all.”

"I know, but I don't want to get in the way of you being here for her..."

“I understand that, but look at it like this: I would rather die happy at 65 than die miserable at 95. I’m sure after everything is done, you might think a bit of the same thing. Once we leave here, my first priority is you.”

She gives me a slight look of confusion; hopefully I haven't given anything away.

"That seems a bit...a bit of a bizarre response..."

“B… Bizarre?”

Her confusion is now OUR confusion. Oh, crap, I wasn’t subtle enough, was I?

"I think we're both really tired from everything that's been going on...we should get some rest..."

“I agree. Let’s leave out of here.”

On that bum of a note, we do just that, Stacy first, then me, but not before telling my mom...

“I love you. Get well soon.”

 

 

 

 

Part II — Kyle Petty’s NO FEAR Racing!

Location: The nice hotel outside of Coliseo Héctor Solá Bezares. Caguas, Puerto Rico.
Date: January 29th, 2016

So, at least now Stacy and I now that Mom isn’t dead. But now, realizing that I have nothing better to do than talk to this thorn in my side, this monster who practically ended the career of Seifer Black, who darn near ended my darling future wife’s career, who basically wants me DEAD… I go ahead and look for my professional camera, and the cruddy tripod that goes along with it. Not my title, since I don’t need it for this particular match, because I need to be blunt with this. There we go, it’s all set up in front of the left side of the bed, that side being where I’m going to sit down. So, here goes nothing…

“Matt Robinson, you are basically pure evil incarnate. There is nothing I would love to do more than whack you upside the head a good thirty times with my crowbar in my car’s trunk, but bear in mind that our match is not a No Disqualification one. It’s a normal match, so my crowbar’s staying in my trunk. I.

Won’t.

Need it.”

I quiet down for a moment, because I need to control my emotions right now. I’m rattled, but not pushed.


“I’ll be the first one to admit, Mattie-poo, you intimidate me. However, you don’t scare me, like you’ve been trying to do ever since you debuted in VoW. That’s why I haven’t said a single word to you on Twitter since our match was booked: you don’t scare me, but you do intimidate me… like I’ve already stated. But, as well as you know me, at the same time, you really don’t, at least not well enough. Every challenge I’ve set for myself, I’ve overcome better off because of it, whether it be on the track or in the ring.”


I take a breath; this next bit might be a mouthful.

“When I set out to win the Knoxville Marathon a second time, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I did it. Was it daunting? You bet it was, but I… overcame it. When I debuted in VoW, my first goal was the Zero Gravity Championship. After September, and after I lost to Calvin Harris, I thought I’d never get a second shot at it. Come January 4th, I defeated Tyron and became… you guessed it, Zero-Gee Champ. It took almost 10 months, but I… overcame that. After I beat Dathyn, I set a few goals that I planned to reach, one of them being earning a winning record in this fine company. Last Breakthrough, number 39, I beat Dustin Holt and earned my seventh win, and that was the day I was finally... thankfully out of my little funk. After so long, I… overcame that funk.”

I take another moment to breathe. That WAS a mouthful, good lord…

Every challenge I’ve either been thrown into, or that I’ve set for myself… I HAVE OVERCOME, and come Double Jeopardy, you’re my next challenge. Will you be a cakewalk? No, I don’t expect to just waltz in and pin you willy-nilly, now, in fact I expect you to be my toughest opponent to date... but you won’t be ending my career, no sir. I plan to let history speak for itself. With my flesh and bones, you will not build your next home.”

I pause for dramatic effect. It’s eerily silent other than the slight whirring of my camera, and for once... the silence is actually calming instead of stomach churning.


“After the main event, I remember beating the ever-loving crap out of you before Stacy got up and helped out. I’ve re-watched those few moments at least… I want to say five times now, and on the fifth watching, I felt confident enough to say ‘I don’t need to be Kathryne Montes to take him on.’ Does that mean you don’t intimidate me? As I’ve stated before here, no. But, the deal is… you intimidate Katie Moicelle… not Kathryne Montes.”

My face becomes quite pensive, and my open hands turn into fists.


“I don’t need a crowbar to beat the tar out of you, Robinson. You see these?”

I raise my fists up to my face.


“I only need these. That’s it.”

I put down my fists, and start to wrap up, since this has gone on a bit longer than I had initially expected.


“I’ll see you at Double Jeopardy, Matt Robinson… and may God have mercy on your well-being.”


And an abrupt cut to black, because I kind of suck when it comes to video editing. Oh, well.</p>