Damnatio ad Bestias

V.O.W Presents

A Casanova English Original

Damnatio ad Bestias

I lead up to the Exposure name, I promised I would come out on top of
my match with Starkaddian. I represented planet earth, the scum, the
weak, the lonely. I defended my fellow parasite in fending off yet
another foreign threat. I fought smart. Still though they boo me,
they cheer for him, the man that has 1% so naively placed on his
trunks. Then again, maybe he isn't all the naive about it. Maybe he
is a soldier, a solider placed here in VOW to stop my revolution. On
paper he should of beat me, he is the perfect warrior. . . but I
never believe anything I read. This was a triumph for humanity, and
all people can think of is how I grabbed the ropes. THEY think about
how I needed that little extra to put the painted intergalactic
defender down. They don't see how perfectly it represents humanity,
what we will do to survive. People wonder how I got here, how I came
from a journalist to a professional wrestler. . . it's because I saw
the ropes and I grabbed them. There is no dignity in losing, there is
no dignity in missed opportunity. The aftermath of that match, the
reaction leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Star will feel the
punishment for your ignorance. I will open you eyes even more. Blood
paves the road to The Revolution.

I stood outside the airport holding a bag for my brother as he
struggled to wrestle the last article of luggage from the taxis
trunk. He grunted and pulled at his baggage, I was about to light a
cigarette when one last pull finally popped the large black bag from
the trunk.

“Thanks a lot for breakfast I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah.”

“That was an amazing match you had at Exposure. The guy was double
your size, he had the whole crowd behind him. Who gives a fuck that
you grabbed the ropes!? You got the job done against a giant.”

“Yeah it was a hell of a battle. I came out on top. That is all
that should matter, but it's not.”

My brother looks at me confused.

“What do you mean it's not done? Isn't that for him to dictate. I
mean you won, you can move on with this. . . because you have to
continue to run towards that Championship they were talking about.”

He just doesn't understand me, no ones does. This is about making
them understand, this is about opening minds. This is about altering
fucking perceptions.

“Fuck championships. I mean if I win one great, but the point is I
am here to spread a message and I have to fine the best possible way
to do that. What is in my foreseeable future might seem a little
barbaric, but isn't that who we are as human begins.”

“It just makes no sense man. You win your miserable, you
loose your miserable. What in the fuck are you even in this sport for
then?”

"It's not all about winning or losing. It is about captivating an
audience. It is about putting them into a trance, that for a second
whether they agree with me or not. . . they have to respect me. I
mean I am still doing it through journalism, but you just can't
connect with the illiterate idiot wrestling fans that need the
saving. I mean I am if this company keeps growing like the corporate
juggernaut that it hopes to be I will be in the television screens of
millions of housewives flicking through the channels during Big
Brother. I will be on magazines, my words will be heard, my talent
respected. . . and one day my philosophy accepted.”

I begin to walk towards the large airport doors, my brother follows
behind me. Maybe it is too over his head, or maybe he just thinks I
am crazy, but he says nothing and walks by me to check his ticket. He
comes back and says. . .

“So you will deny yourself a championship just to prove a point?”

“That is all life is Andrew. All it is is proving points. You just
loose sight of it. The dominate ideals run your mind like a fucking
puppet. I talk of a altered way of thinking and I am dubbed insane,
delusional, a sick philosopher. No I am just showing you that this
may be the survival of the fittest, but the fittest come in all
shapes sizes, and social status.”

“What the fuck are you then? The reincarnation of Jesus, here to
save the people from their sins. Man, I am glad I came to check on
you. Now I know that you have actually lost it.”

“See that is exactly what I am talking about. You think I am crazy
just because I want to take the money out of the equation. . . burn
the dollars, strip down political entities and start new. The people
are drones now. . . they have no idea what they want. They are spoon
fed shit and eat it with a grin.”

“Your just a contributor of that shit then maybe. What I am saying
is it makes no sense to dwell on Star when you already beat him and
proved a point. I don't know why you can't get it out of your head.
If you didn't want to beat him that way then you shouldn't of grabbed
the fucking rope.”

“No, it's not about me grabbing the rope. I wanted to grab the
rope, I would of ripped the roid ridden fucks balls off if I had to.
Its the way they reacted. It was poetic. It was poetic the way I
presented it, the way I told them we were all bacteria, how we would
survive on this planet against all odds. Then I went out and pulled
that. I translated it perfectly into that match, and they think I did
something wrong. I was beat on paper, so I rewrote the fucking rules.
See. . .”

He just shakes his head as he walks toward security.

“I am telling them fuck the rules. They need to win this at any
costs, if your voice can't be heard make it heard. What hurts me is
the fact that they can't embrace this idea, they can't accept it.
They are all wrapped up in the delusion of a hero. They are all
wrapped up in this alien's bullshit. I owe it to them to rid that. .
. whether they like it or not.”

“That type of dedication is either insanity or brilliance. Look
man, you know what I really want to ask. Are you taking you meds?”

Which ones? The ones for depression? The ones for social anxiety?
ADD? ADHD? Bi-polar? The ones for depression are the ones that he is
talking about. He found a bottle of them on the floor of my apartment
when I was working a case and thinking about taking a risky freelance
job in Afghanistan. I never took that shit very often. I feel like if
the mind is a touch different then the norm, they fear it. They
should. I will embrace it.

“Yes.”

I say lying not sure why. Maybe because I just want him to stop
calling me crazy deep down inside. All this week I avoided him, just
wanted him to go home. I really wish I could take him on this
journey, but he wasn't with me at my lowest. I was there for his. . .
so why should I take him to the heights with me? He smiles from my
response.

“Good. Look Cass, I will be back to visit. Lets try and avoid all
this bullshit talk. . . no offense. Lets go grab a drink, shoot some
pool. Let's lighten up and be brothers for a bit. I mean during Art's
death we kind of lost connection. I know you think that is my fault,
and I agree some of the ownership is on me, but lets get back to
normal a little bit.”

He reaches his hand out to shake mine. . . I shake back, but I say
nothing. I make no promises of a bright future, because it's going to
get a hell lot darker before the sun comes up. I let go of his tight
grip and he walks through security off to fly home to his little
“life”. To his nest of lies. Me as much as I should probably pack
it up and hop on that plane to leave the cartoon world of wrestling I
won't, I'll keep spreading my message. I will keep fighting for the
cause. I will die for it. That's the difference between me and a lot
of people. A main one between me and Star. Sure everyone will fight
for what they believe, but will they die for it? I will.

I smoked the tail end of a stale cigarette that seemed to be in my
pocket out of the blue. I throw the butt on the ground and gaze
across the street at the neon lights flashing “All Nude Girls”. I
push my shoe hard onto the butt and twist exhaling the last piece of
succulent smoke that I held in my lungs. This looks like exactly the
place you would see Jarek strolling into. I flick on the camcorder
that is in my left hand and focus it on the building.

“Hello VOW! See I talk a big game. . . but I go out there and I
back it up with every single thing I have. Maybe you people can start
taking some god damn notes now. See I put down the man here to save
the world from “Annihilation”, but listen to me when I tell you
maybe annihilation is what all you people deserve. Who sit there and
let injustice roam free in this hell hole you dub The United States.
Irony, I have never seen anything so segregated off from the rest of
the world. You know if everyone in the world ate like you gluttons we
would need 5 times the worlds food resources. Hell, maybe that is why
Star landed his ass in an American wrestling promotion. Maybe he is
going to save us by destroying you people. Then again I bet that he
was bought like everything else can be in this country. So there you
were cheering on a specimen of a being while wolfing down a chilli
dog in one hand, and a fucking bag of Doritos and I swear to fuck
when that referee dropped his hand for the third time I heard a
packed full arena of unambitious fucks CHOKE! That sound will live
with me my entire wrestling career. Don't fill your mouths anytime
soon. . . cause I am not done yet. See now Frie has come to his
sense. He put me up against Star and I defeated him. . . now he sees
that I am THE MAIN EVENT. It just seems really cruel who he put me up
against."

I laugh a bit after the verbal thrashing I gave the people of
America. Deep down I knew though it was jealousy. They still cheered
Star, they still praise him. I put down my competition for wrestling
hottest new star, and they still adored him. They still don't see.
That frustrates me, but I need to calm down. I can't loose my edge.
I steady the camera on the “Scarlet Thigh” specifically the
bright signs. The women on heals at the corner who just didn't make
the cut to be a stripper stagger too and fro. I swear for a second I
can hear their vaginal lips flapping from the gentle breeze.

“So this week at Breakthrough I am up against a very different
challenger. One that might be feeling the pain I feel after going up
against a massive opponent at Exposure. The difference of course is
that I won my match, and Knight. . . well he beat you Jarek. I am
sure that doesn't matter though just toss on a wife beater do some
Jager Bombs, and fuck a slut. BOOM! You are back on the road to
glory. Oh, you have to be my least favorite type of person, and I
hate most people to be honest. See Jarek you are what is wrong with
society today. You are what is wrong with our youth. I don't know how
the fuck you were the quickest sperm in your fathers ball sack.”

I pause for a minute smiling to myself thinking of my opponents
lifestyle.

“Jarek
you and your army of butt sluts will be no match for this one man
revolution. I placed myself in this industry to take out people like
you. Take out people who would rather call a women a slut, and snap
back a shot before you would consider going to a god damn election
booth. You think life is all about tits and fast cars. Your alcohol
deluded mind cannot escape the fact that they are just here to
distract us. See Jarek I hope to open that mind at Breakthrough like I
am working towards with the rest of these degenerate idiots like you.
I would ask you if you know the latin phrase damnatio ad bestias but
I already know the last time you saw a book you were probably
snorting a line off it. Anyway Damnatio ad Bestias translated to
English means condemnation to beasts. If that is too
over our head it is a form of capitol punishment. It is when a man is
put in the cage with a lion and the lion and him fight to the death.
SPOILER! The lion usually wins. Sometimes a pack of lions will rip
one man apart fighting over the scraps of his flesh. I though that
was a nice piece of history. I never thought we would ever see
something so barbaric again. THEN I read this weeks card. I read that
they are putting me into the ring with you Jarek. Putting me in the
ring with a man who is condemned by a mind that is so beneath mine.
It is almost an insult.”

I look across the street at the douche
bags all lined up to get into the club. Some are fist pumping, some
are clearly too drunk, and some of them have no chance to break the
barrier of bouncers at the door.

“This is where you want to belong.
You want to be lumped in with these sad excuses of men who jam
themselves into a strip club with the hopes of bringing one of those
exploited college teens home. Maybe add them to your league of butt
sluts. You prance around VOW like it is a constant party, like this
is your free ride to indulging in pussy. Not that it isn't. I am here
to change that however. I am here to make society a better place, but
in order to do that I have to clean up this god forsaken industry
first. It is okay to be brash, it is okay to be arrogant, it is okay
to be cocky even. Hell, I am all three of those things. I will tell
you what I am not though. I am not a loser. I am not going to allow
Jarek to keep this party going. If Knight couldn't put this poor
little sheep out of it's misery or at least slap some sense into the
kid then I guess I will have to finish the job. Let's face it after
this is the reincarnation of condemnation to beasts.”

I look to the corner where a man comes
out of the bar, and staggers over to the hooker on the edge of the
street. He pulls out a wad of cash and drunkenly places it in her
hand.

“This Lion has a big fucking
appetite.”

I smile turning the camera to me now
shutting it off with the image of my smiling lips. I look back at the
nightclub. I just don't get it. I don't get these people how they
worship false saints. How they hang on the words of delusional people
and celebrate the life styles of the degenerates. They feed off
stupidity. This week at Breakthrough though. . . another one bites the
dust. I can't get Star out of my head though, something doesn't sit
right. I focus in on the “Scarlet Thigh”. . . fuck I am stressed.
A drink wouldn't kill me. 

OOC: Weird formatting issue with the bolding sorry for that