Blood On The Ground

          Young men and women file into the main hall in an orderly fashion, sitting on the floor by the podium with their legs folded. Seated on a metal folding chair to her right, I watch on as    Rebecca waits patiently for them to settle in. Arms folded, I’m most likely not giving off a friendly vibe to these youngsters - many of them glance at me with a hint of fear and perplexity in their eyes.

“You’ve all been summoned here for a very special presentation,” she announces, her outstretched arm combing over the sea of youth. “I wasn’t sure how to go about this - I contemplated hiding it from you as best I can, but I don’t believe that’s best for you. It’s dishonest, I want each of you to be aware of the real issues. Which is why I invited all of you here.” She motions to me. “I’ve invited a guest to speak to you all; you know him very well. Please, give a warm welcome to the I4NI Champion, Tyron Bickerton.”

As the kids applaud, I rise from my seat and approach the podium. Rebecca pecks me on the cheek and sits down as I step to the microphone.

“Thanks for that,” I state, hushing them into silence. I adjust the microphone stand a little higher to account for the height difference between her and I. “I was asked to come here today to show you something; I don’t necessarily want you to be exposed to this, but the reality is, it’s out there. It’s best that you see it from us.” Using the Screen Share app, I’m able to send my iPhone’s screen to the flat screen TV suspended on the back wall. Mimi was kind enough to sign into her Twitter account on my phone before the presentation, as I've been blocked by virtually every account associated with VoW.  I scroll through her timeline, stopping on a picture that’s been retweeted; a blonde woman sprawled seductively on a bed. “How many of you actually watch Visionaries of Wrestling? Do you recognise this woman? She goes by the name of Cali-Kate in VoW. That’s right; she’s a professional wrestler - the organisation who signed myself and Rebecca to a contract after years and years of hard work on the independent scene is the same organisation that pays this woman to wrestle! As ludicrous as that sounds, that’s just a small part of the story.

I know that a lot of you are pretty young, so I made sure to find and present the cleanest, most-appropriate example I could; there are many, many more photographs that are much worse than this one. The reality is the kind of filthy, disgusting trash is posted online on a daily basis.

Show of hands - who thinks this is acceptable?”

I watch as a decent number of hands shoot upwards - the majority of them I notice belong to young men.

“You’re wrong.” There’s a small rumble of confused chatter in the room, which slowly peters out as I continue. “This kind of behaviour is not okay. This woman and her tag team partner are public figureheads for Visionaries of Wrestling. The way they conduct themselves is reflective on the entire promotion and its employees - they don’t seem to understand that.” I turn slightly to point directly at the screen, making a point not to look at it. “This kind of thing objectifies women! Your sisters, your mother - this is disrespectful to all of them.” I lower my outstretched arm, placing both hands firmly on the podium before me. “Girls shouldn’t be portrayed in such a degrading manner, whether they consent to it or not; individuals like JMC and Cali-Kate, they don’t care how what they do affects those around them. They’re too busy screaming “I am who I am! I won’t change for anybody! Who cares; nobody’s getting hurt!” But that’s the thing; they are. Every time something like this is brought to the forefront, it belittles everything else that myself, your mother, and every other real wrestler does to improve the VoW brand. It’s not right.”

“If a man was to do this, he’d be labelled a creep and a pervert. The fact that our society gives them a free pass because they’re all women is a step in the wrong direction, in my eyes. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all equal; you girls are just important as the boys, and vice versa. You need to protect each other from the evils in the world; crap like that.” I motion my head toward the screen. “We want each of you to go out and make something special out of your lives, like we know you can. See, we can only do so much to make sure that girls like Cali-Kate and JMC don’t corrupt and infect this world with their plague - it’s up to you, the next generation, to immunise yourselves.”

I bow my head. “Thank you.”

They applaud as I leave the podium, replaced by Rebecca as she delivers a closing speech of her own. I retreat to the nearest exit as soon as possible, hearing nothing but her muffled voice deliver what sounds like nonsense.

    The scene opens to nothing but a shot of my head and shoulders against a beige wall. I’m in the weight room at a gym in West Virginia, taking a break between lifting sessions to film some of my thoughts. My phone is lying horizontal, propped up by my sunglasses as it records with the inner camera. Without including the notable change of scenery, everything’s as it usually is when I record something - apart from the VoW cap on my sweaty head. I take one quick look around the room and back at my phone camera.

    “I had a very eye-opening chat with my girlfriend this morning,” I state, chewing on a now-flavourless stick of gum. “She really put things into perspective for me. I’ve been looking at this upcoming match all wrong; I saw it as a spot where management needed a team to fill space on their show, and that team just happened to be us. I was pissed off that Heath Williams was placed in the main event to face Seth Iser, while I was relegated to what I thought was a pointless tag team match with two opponents I couldn’t care less about. I was thinking with a closed mind.

    But, when Rebecca pulled me aside and told me what was on the line here, I knew I was looking at this match the wrong way. This has very little, if anything to do with me. It’s about Mimi and, to a lesser extent, Katie Moicelle.

    That’s probably going to be confusing to most of you - you’re all too self-centred to see anything that happens to people around you - but just let me explain. At Fate of the Gods II, our little princess Mimi was taken from us because of that filthy troll doll, Kelsey Spencer. Kelsey’s lucky she doesn’t work for this company anymore, or I’d rip her stupid head off her shoulders for what she did! Because of her, Mimi was forced to leave Saint City, and ended up living with Stacy Jones, of all people… The same woman who couldn’t even take care of her own children was now responsible for mine! Can you imagine how livid I was?”

    I lean back in my chair with folded hands upon my head, exposing the sweat patches in the armpits of my faded red shirt.

    “I knew then and there that I had to do everything I could to get her out of that toxic environment - this is the same woman who was mutilating herself every time something didn’t go her way, don’t forget. I didn’t even think of what could’ve happened if she’d remained around those people any longer than she had; the images that could’ve scarred her for life!”

    I bring my arms back down, resting them on my knees.

    “JMC and Cali-Kate; I know you girls are watching this. The main reason I’m even making this video is to address my issue with the pair of you, actually. Like the gorgeous love of my life, Rebecca Saint, I have no problems with lesbians. In fact, as many VoW fans should recall, I was one of the first people to congratulate Katie and Stacy on their engagement...when that was still a thing. When you’re committing to another human being, it’s fine by me, regardless of gender. But the message you’re sending to little girls like Mimi with your public displays of affection doesn’t sit well with me. When you’re teaching young, impressionable children that it’s okay to have multiple partners, that's when you and I have a problem.

    Now, don’t give me the usual crap: “Children shouldn’t be on social media!” It’s 2016; anyone who can operate technology is active on social media. They see your tweets that say “I’m going on a date with X, gonna see a movie with Y, then cuddle with Z…” - not to mention whatever other crap you go on about - and they get the impression that’s how young women are supposed to act in today’s society. I don’t want my little girl growing up in that environment. You're probably thinking they should just mute or block you, right? The problem is, they shouldn't have to! You're the adults in this situation! It's your responsibility to control what these kids are exposed to!”

    I lean back in my chair once more; this time, folding my arms across my chest.

    “It’s not just the young fans I’m concerned for - I mentioned Katie Moicelle earlier; a 19-year-old girl trying to figure her life out while the public watches. That’s enough pressure to break anyone, and yet she’s managed to persevere. Contrary to popular believe, I actually like young Katie; she’s a victim, it’s not her fault this happens to her.” I glance at the floor. “I remember a long time ago when her and I were friends, set to have a match with each other for the Zero Gravity Title; she was doubting herself, she didn’t think she had what it took to get the job done...to win the championship.”

I look back up to the camera.

“As much as I didn’t want to fight my friend, I convinced her to give it all she had. I lit a fire under her ass, and she gave me the greatest fight of my career up to that point - and what do you know? She did it. She won the Zero Gravity Championship, and went on to have one of the most impressive reigns in the title’s history.  I made that happen; if it wasn’t for my encouragement, she wouldn’t have had the fortitude to step up and make her dreams come true. I wasn’t even mad I’d lost; I mean, I did have another title…” I chuckle slightly. “...Did you guys actually know I’m the first and only dual champion in VoW?”

I shake it off. “That’s not the point right now. What I’m saying is the Katie Moicelle I battled that night was someone I was proud of. She was someone I could see being one of the all-time greats in this promotion… Which is why it’s so sad to see how far she’s fallen. I may have downplayed it in the past to make a point, but I remember giving everything I had in that match, and she still beat me. But see, I'm not the same guy I was back then - I've improved immensely, while her star has fallen from grace. When I see the way she carries on like a spoiled little brat over every loss she suffers, I feel a little part of me die inside; the gladiator who fought tooth and nail to win and retain that championship is dead and gone - all that remains is...whatever this is.”

“I started looking at what could’ve caused such a change,” I state, straightening my posture. “Her engagement to Stacy ended...maybe it was that? No, she’s engaged again, couldn’t be that… And that’s when it hit me, like a chair shot from that savage Heath Williams - the problem is the pair of you. Casa De Kami, your “Starpoint Girls” have turned a young wrestling prodigy - who could have been World Champion right now, mind you - into nothing but a joke; a simple shell of what she used to be. She cares more about going on dates or arranging hook-ups than she does to get any real training done. You see, Rebecca and I are the final people standing between you and thousands of Katie Moicelles - gifted youngsters who have their talents squandered; pissed away because of your selfish libido.

    I’ll admit, I do have several selfish intentions here. I trekked across the globe in search of the toughest competition I could find, and I just so happened to settle on coming here to VoW. I had other offers - better offers for a lot more money - from other promotions, but I watched one VoW pay-per-view event and made my decision then and there. I wanted to be a part of the greatest professional wrestling company I could, and judging from what I was watching at the time, that was Visionaries of Wrestling.”

    I let out an annoyed groan, leaning to one side slightly to stretch out my aching back.

    “Times have changed,” I state, with a slight shake of the head. “I look around, and all I see are people like you! It almost makes me ashamed to be a part of this company!” I take the cap of my head, the brim of the hat bending and creasing as its crushed in my balled fist. “I’m ashamed to wear this thing!” I toss the cap aside - it makes a loud cracking sound as it smacks the wooden floor. “I want the pair of you to log onto the official VoW website and take a look at the Champions tab; what do you see? What does every champion in VoW today have in common? We don’t engage in that kind of shit! We’re out there bringing honour and prestige to those titles. I practically killed myself to win the I4NI Championship - and I’m gonna do the exact same thing at Heatstroke on August 18 - because that’s what this industry should be about! That’s what this damn promotion should be about; winning championships and selling out arenas, not farming other melan-polys and scissor fucking as many of them as you can at once!”

    I slam my fist on the wall nearby in a short burst of rage. Running my open palm over my face, I inhale, hold for ten and exhale - the anger subsides long enough for me to at least see straight again.

    “I want this company to be respected; I wouldn’t be damn-near killing myself every time I'm in the ring otherwise. As long as people like you two are signed to this roster, it’s not going to be. My girlfriend’s quite happy playing her mind games - pulling your little strings, making you react the way she wants you to - but I prefer a more direct approach. I’m not going to pull punches; you’re threatening the existence of everything we’ve worked tirelessly for since we were teenagers!” I point to the inverted VoW cap, even though I know it’s out of frame. “You’re threatening the existence of that! I’m not about to let my legacy be torn down by a couple of no-talent hacks who think just because they have relatives in the business and they’re pretty good at Mortal Kombat III, they can stand in the ring with the pair of us!”

    I lean in close to the camera, propping my head up by resting my chin on my balled fist.

    “I’ve got no problem spilling blood, ladies. Your lifestyle is effecting mine, so I need to put a stop to it; and in Morgantown, I will.”