Post by Tamika Strader on May 1, 2023 5:00:50 GMT -5
)Donnie Harris(
My name is Donnie Harris. I am a former amateur MMA fighter; I am currently signed as a wrestler in OCW. I’m here... I’m here because I know I’m not okay.
-The camera pans from behind a chair, displaying the familiar sights of a therapist’s office: professional-looking wooden library bookshelves; the leather lounger that Donnie is sitting in; certificates from accredited schools and licensing; boring green- and white-striped wallpaper. The camera then flips over to view a bearded man, his hair shoulder length, looking every bit the cliched psychoanalyst; he practically looks like Jesus.-
(Therapist)
It takes a lot of strength to admit that you’re not okay, Donnie; is it okay that I call you that?
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, it’s fine. It’s what I’m used to being called.
(Therapist)
Did you have a moniker as an MMA fighter?
)Donnie Harris(
They tried a few things: Sharknado, believe it or not; Firestarter; Roughrider; Shotgun: none of them seemed to stick. It was mostly because I always got into the cage and got out of the cage without too much challenge, but I could never reach past the point of success in such a small organization.
(Therapist)
How many fighters were there?
-Donnie paused for a moment; he knew that the therapist was trying to build rapport, but Donnie couldn’t tell if there was genuine interest there. He figured why not? After all, it was better than the nightmares.-
)Donnie Harris(
I think there were between 50 and 100 of us. There were enough of us to work full fight cards, depending on any injuries or quick substitutions.
(Therapist)
Did you ever need substitution?
)Donnie Harris(
No, never did. A lot of the time, I was the guy to step up, but there were some fights I was denied, because the athletic commission can’t let you fight regularly like that. I did appeal that, but after a few of the appeals fell through, I gave up. I also felt some of the wear and tear on my body, even though I was undefeated except for once in the beginning.
(Therapist)
You lost once?
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, I... lost once.
-The therapist thoughtfully looked at Donnie, recognizing the hesitation in his voice.-
(Therapist)
Did you want to break that down?
)Donnie Harris(
Break what down?
(Therapist)
The loss: it seems to still hold you down a bit; it’s as if you’re in full guard with it.
-Donnie sighs, acknowledging the therapist’s knowledge while nodding.-
)Donnie Harris(
It takes a lot of me to stay in the guard sometimes. It was hard on me, for a lot of reasons.
(Therapist)
What was the worst of those feelings, Donnie?
)Donnie Harris(
I thought it would honestly ruin my career before it got started: 2 and oh in the promotion and some older fighter catches me with a solid left hook before I could get my hands up in time.
-The therapist nods, watching Donnie’s wavering expression. He felt something else was going on but said nothing; it was too soon: Donnie’s first visit.-
(Therapist)
Did he get the mount and go for the finish?
)Donnie Harris(
I felt weight on me, but when I came to, the match was already well over and his hand was raised. I got up, woozy as hell, but we shook hands. I don’t think I’ve had a majorly disrespectful person to deal with; well, that’s a lie, maybe once or twice, but after the fight it was all cleared up. It’s just how some fighters roll: use their words and attitude to demean someone long before the fight starts to make for a quicker finish.
(Therapist)
Boxing is notorious for that.
)Donnie Harris(
I’ve flattened quite a few pure boxers.
(Therapist)
What was your worst injury?
-Donnie points to a scar over his left eye, not as fresh as the rest, just barely visible under his eyebrow’s hair; it ran the length of the brow.-
)Donnie Harris(
Accidental headbutt: thankfully, I finished the fight before a doctor could stop it. It cost a bit of time and a bunch of money, but I was back in two months after it happened.
(Therapist)
Who was your team?
)Donnie Harris(
Didn’t have a team for most of it. I relied on my dad. He’s a retired fighter; taught me all I know.
(Therapist)
Sounds like a good father.
-Donnie barely ekes out a lamentful sigh, trying to disguise it as an expression of pleasant memories.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, yeah he was. I didn’t learn any BJJ with him, but, as for boxing, he was an ace. He even sent me to his old camp to learn some kickboxing and Muay Thai. I don’t remember the name of it though.
-As he spoke, there were obvious moments where Donnie couldn’t meet the therapist’s gaze: clear signs of lying. Donnie spoke confidently throughout, however, hoping it would throw the therapist off the trail.-
(Therapist)
So one loss is still really good, and you acknowledge that. When was this?
)Donnie Harris(
I was 20-ish, I believe. The guy I was fighting was in his later 30’s; he crushed me with that hook. That’s all I remember, even after passing the concussion protocol, even though there barely was one at the time.
(Therapist)
So why did a prize fighter so early in his career like you let his father beat him?
-Donnie froze, the tears welling in his eyes.-
)Donnie Harris(
What? Wh-what are you talking about? The man didn’t lay a finger on me. He sparred with me, sure, and he kept me fit and made sure that I was able to take my licks in the cage. He never touched me otherwise.
-Donnie got angrier as he spoke, sitting forward in his seat aggressively.-
)Donnie Harris(
And who... who are you? Who are you to make such a fucking accusation about my family? My mother wouldn’t do anything about... wouldn’t have let that happen.
-The therapist tilted his head at Donnie’s stammer and quick correction.-
)Donnie Harris(
She was always there, making sure I was fed, clothed and safe. I think I need to leave.
-Donnie goes to get up, and the therapist doesn’t stop him; Donnie freezes at the lack of reaction.-
(Therapist)
If you feel you need to go, go. You can speak to my receptionist to set the next appointment.
-It had only been about 25 minutes of a one-hour session. Donnie, frozen in place, didn’t know what to do.-
(Therapist)
Or you can sit back down and tell me more about your family, or maybe talk about OCW.
-Donnie, as if dissociated from the moment, sat back down.-
)Donnie Harris(
It was good to get that contract from OCW, which gave me some hope since Dad died recently. It’s why I took my hiatus back at the beginning of the year, even though I had only had a few matches.
(Therapist)
He had a lot of effect on you.
)Donnie Harris(
All things considered, yeah, he did, and I’m... thankful for it.
-The therapist takes a couple notes, making sure to highlight the extra hesitation as he had before.-
)Donnie Harris(
I wouldn’t have the work ethic and relentless discipline I possess if not for him.
(Therapist)
Yes, you said this; it goes to show how strong an influence he has on your life.
-A gentle chiming alarm goes off, and both people look over to the wall clock; five minutes until it would be the top of the hour: the end of the appointment. The therapist looks back to Donnie first, the latter of whom still gazing at the analog clock, almost sad to be leaving.-
(Therapist)
Donnie, are you still here?
-His head whips back to the therapist, as if in his own little world.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, sorry; sort of drifted off there.
(Therapist)
Where were you just now?
)Donnie Harris(
Just... thinking about what’s coming.
(Therapist)
Your comeback.
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, I think I’ve taken enough time off. With the shake-up that took place recently, I need to get back into the ring, make sure people still remember me.
(Therapist)
I think the saying in this case is that wrestling has a long memory. You had good matches, from what you described and from what I’ve seen, so I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Just worry about making a strong showing.
)Donnie Harris(
Amen to that. I needed this time off, to myself, to enjoy the silence; it was still hard to find the quiet of mind to be at peace though. Oh well, that comes with time and practice.
(Therapist)
Which DOES mean no beating yourself up if you can’t figure out how to do it. This is outside your dad’s realm of understanding, and I’m sure you know that.
-Solemnly, taking a moment to digest and consider the therapist’s words, Donnie just nods.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. He did a number on honing the physicality; this is on me to figure out my mind.
-Another alarm, another gentle chime echoing in the air: time to go. Without a word, Donnie gets up and shakes the man’s hand. He goes to the receptionist and books his next appointment before leaving.
He needed to get his muscles worked out. He needed to do something to ignore his mind, to quiet his heart. He didn’t want to cry.
He felt like nothing got done; nothing was accomplished.-
-A crackling fire, surrounded by pine trees, stars twinkling in the sky, a full moon’s light enough to mute those same stars as it emerges from behind the clouds: Donnie was standing in the middle of the woods at night, dressed in a pair of olive drab cargo pants, wearing black military-style hiking boots and a black sweater, the flash of a white v-neck barely noticeable from underneath.
It was just cold enough for his breath to be visible, barely. He looks up to the moon and stars, looking back to the fire, breathing deep with a grumbling breath out.-
)Donnie Harris(
It was a very long time ago when I was out camping last. It was me and my family: mom, dad, an aunt and uncle though I forget which ones, cousins; it was summer time, so it wasn’t as cold as tonight, but it was still nippy enough to switch from sandals to socks and shoes. In the air, you could tell that it wanted to rain; you could literally smell the fresh water in the air, mingling with the smell of pine and fir in the air. It was such a pleasant memory. I intend to make a few more pleasant memories, and there is no more appropriate place to do that than the most superstitiously ominous event on the OCW calendar.
-Sitting down on a tree stump close to the fire, the scene sits across from him, peering just over the flickering tongues of flame as he stares back into the lens.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yes, that’s right. I am going to be coming back with the Wheel of Misfortune, and there is no better opportunity to make a comeback than the open invitational gauntlet to take a shot at current Paradigm champion, Moonlight Rose. Now, it’s cute to think that this kitty cat girl of Japanese descent and Canadian citizenship is holding a major title. It is respectable to see her, standing at her pocket-sized 5-foot-nothin’ and being able to carry a title belt that probably weighs the same as her.
So, Rose... Moonlight... whatever you like to be called, I will happily bow to you before the match, as I am, first and foremost, a martial artist, and most martial arts are sourced from Asia, especially Japan; call it me respecting the Code of Honor in lieu of shaking your hand. I will never be afraid to show my respect, but that’s where it ends. After that, all bets are off, and I will work you to the bone, if I don’t break any in the process; if I don’t break any bones in your minute form, I’ll be disappointed in myself.
-Donnie takes a deep breath, the water vapor in his exhaled air mixing into the fire, almost pushing the fire out further as it blends together.-
)Donnie Harris(
But how am I to know who else I’m going to be facing? Is it a battle royal? Is it a true gauntlet match, where the winner sticks around and faces as many opponents as he or she can handle before being replaced? Yes, I had to do a little bit of research on the idea of the gauntlet match, to know exactly what I’m saying. Or will it be a championship shuffle, where whoever enters the match mixes it up until there’s a final pinfall before time runs out?
-Donnie stops, takes a moment, and finally shrugs.-
)Donnie Harris(
Who the fuck knows, right? Well, Strader will know. After all, she took over from Welsh; she’s got the book now; she’s the ma’am with the plan. So, it will depend on what competitor wants to get into the ring for the title shot against Moonlight Rose. Her lucha style does work for her, after all, being so small and light; that means she can move quickly and strike hard, and I can’t wait to be the wall she hits. I can’t wait to serve her up like a tennis ball and whack her from pillar to post. I’ll be the one to take her mask off so the doctors can stitch up her face, not maliciously. I’ve seen some nasty cuts in my time, being in MMA on the amateur level. It’s why I got out of there, whether it was the UFC, Bellator, or whomever, to hire me, but there was no fucking way I’d go to Brazil or Russia or the UAE. It’s just that I’m not one to accept fixed outcomes...
-Donnie stops, blinking.-
)Donnie Harris(
Says the guy in professional wrestling, but I see this place more like a haven for shooters: may the best grappler win. I’ve already had a good mix of competition, all from the top and the bottom. If it means I’m dwelling in the midcard, as they put it, I will take my licks and accept my lot, for now. I’m not planning on staying in the shit pit. I’m after the sun. I’m looking to rip the stars out of the sky and drag them, one or a million at a time, and shove them into my trophy case. I’m the guy who’s going to rip the moon out of the sky and carry it to the ring. Why? Because I’m a stellar talent; why else?
-Donnie laughs a bit, shaking his head.-
)Donnie Harris(
That sounded almost gimmicky, but that’s not what I’m about. I’m not going to talk like I wear a mask, or like I’m some maniac straight out of a cartoon or a comic book. I am a man; I will talk like a man. I do not like talking about striking a woman, whether she is my equal or not. It just doesn’t feel right, but, Moonlight Rose, you have something I want, and I’m not about to hold back just because you’re a woman. You’re technically a champion, and, as a champion, you are meant to face all comers, and that means you have to go toe to toe with anyone and everyone placed in your way. After Wheel of Misfortune, you will just have to accept that that person is going to be me. Or will the title shot come after the gauntlet? Well, that would definitely put you at an advantage, but that doesn’t mean your victory is guaranteed. If you face me, you will not have the chance to breathe, especially when I can get my breath back, hit that second wind; when that happens, all bets are fucking off, and there will be no number of OTKs you can hit to keep me from kicking out. The only way you’ll be able to win is if the ref counts to 10 and I can’t get up.
-Donnie warms his hands, his knuckles littered with scars and skin creased where tape had been applied; it was clear that Donnie had done some bare-knuckle boxing.-
)Donnie Harris(
Open invitational too; who knows if some of OCW’s current champions will join the match, just so that they can be double-champions? Well, they’re welcome to try. I know I owe PIC a few good shots to the body, and TLS we won’t get into, but I’m not done with him, no sir. I’m going to break that fucker’s ribs and leave him in the middle of the ring, as he coughs up blood and bile, his lungs filling with fluid as I watch his ass drown like some unfortunate soul with cystic fibrosis. Except TLS will be fortunate; his end will be quick, but still painful. But I could see Vhodka Black, I know I’ll be seeing SYNN again... Brooke Blakely and her fear-driven competitive streak...
-Once again, Donnie shrugs, totally indifferent to the three women he mentioned.-
)Donnie Harris(
And the only reason I recognize Black is from her match against PIC, so who knows what I’m going to be seeing when the bell rings? I can only promise one thing, and that is to get in that ring and give it my all. I can’t afford to hold back, not after what Nickleman proved to me. He let me fight; he let me punish him, and I will continue to punish the fools put in the ring to face me. Strader, make sure I’m in that match, because I’m not to be treated lightly, because I will not be treating anyone with anything more than ruthless aggression.
-Donnie takes a log and gently places it on the campfire, the fire stoked brighter with the addition of the fuel, the fire reflecting off his eyes with an excited glow.-
My name is Donnie Harris. I am a former amateur MMA fighter; I am currently signed as a wrestler in OCW. I’m here... I’m here because I know I’m not okay.
-The camera pans from behind a chair, displaying the familiar sights of a therapist’s office: professional-looking wooden library bookshelves; the leather lounger that Donnie is sitting in; certificates from accredited schools and licensing; boring green- and white-striped wallpaper. The camera then flips over to view a bearded man, his hair shoulder length, looking every bit the cliched psychoanalyst; he practically looks like Jesus.-
(Therapist)
It takes a lot of strength to admit that you’re not okay, Donnie; is it okay that I call you that?
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, it’s fine. It’s what I’m used to being called.
(Therapist)
Did you have a moniker as an MMA fighter?
)Donnie Harris(
They tried a few things: Sharknado, believe it or not; Firestarter; Roughrider; Shotgun: none of them seemed to stick. It was mostly because I always got into the cage and got out of the cage without too much challenge, but I could never reach past the point of success in such a small organization.
(Therapist)
How many fighters were there?
-Donnie paused for a moment; he knew that the therapist was trying to build rapport, but Donnie couldn’t tell if there was genuine interest there. He figured why not? After all, it was better than the nightmares.-
)Donnie Harris(
I think there were between 50 and 100 of us. There were enough of us to work full fight cards, depending on any injuries or quick substitutions.
(Therapist)
Did you ever need substitution?
)Donnie Harris(
No, never did. A lot of the time, I was the guy to step up, but there were some fights I was denied, because the athletic commission can’t let you fight regularly like that. I did appeal that, but after a few of the appeals fell through, I gave up. I also felt some of the wear and tear on my body, even though I was undefeated except for once in the beginning.
(Therapist)
You lost once?
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, I... lost once.
-The therapist thoughtfully looked at Donnie, recognizing the hesitation in his voice.-
(Therapist)
Did you want to break that down?
)Donnie Harris(
Break what down?
(Therapist)
The loss: it seems to still hold you down a bit; it’s as if you’re in full guard with it.
-Donnie sighs, acknowledging the therapist’s knowledge while nodding.-
)Donnie Harris(
It takes a lot of me to stay in the guard sometimes. It was hard on me, for a lot of reasons.
(Therapist)
What was the worst of those feelings, Donnie?
)Donnie Harris(
I thought it would honestly ruin my career before it got started: 2 and oh in the promotion and some older fighter catches me with a solid left hook before I could get my hands up in time.
-The therapist nods, watching Donnie’s wavering expression. He felt something else was going on but said nothing; it was too soon: Donnie’s first visit.-
(Therapist)
Did he get the mount and go for the finish?
)Donnie Harris(
I felt weight on me, but when I came to, the match was already well over and his hand was raised. I got up, woozy as hell, but we shook hands. I don’t think I’ve had a majorly disrespectful person to deal with; well, that’s a lie, maybe once or twice, but after the fight it was all cleared up. It’s just how some fighters roll: use their words and attitude to demean someone long before the fight starts to make for a quicker finish.
(Therapist)
Boxing is notorious for that.
)Donnie Harris(
I’ve flattened quite a few pure boxers.
(Therapist)
What was your worst injury?
-Donnie points to a scar over his left eye, not as fresh as the rest, just barely visible under his eyebrow’s hair; it ran the length of the brow.-
)Donnie Harris(
Accidental headbutt: thankfully, I finished the fight before a doctor could stop it. It cost a bit of time and a bunch of money, but I was back in two months after it happened.
(Therapist)
Who was your team?
)Donnie Harris(
Didn’t have a team for most of it. I relied on my dad. He’s a retired fighter; taught me all I know.
(Therapist)
Sounds like a good father.
-Donnie barely ekes out a lamentful sigh, trying to disguise it as an expression of pleasant memories.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, yeah he was. I didn’t learn any BJJ with him, but, as for boxing, he was an ace. He even sent me to his old camp to learn some kickboxing and Muay Thai. I don’t remember the name of it though.
-As he spoke, there were obvious moments where Donnie couldn’t meet the therapist’s gaze: clear signs of lying. Donnie spoke confidently throughout, however, hoping it would throw the therapist off the trail.-
(Therapist)
So one loss is still really good, and you acknowledge that. When was this?
)Donnie Harris(
I was 20-ish, I believe. The guy I was fighting was in his later 30’s; he crushed me with that hook. That’s all I remember, even after passing the concussion protocol, even though there barely was one at the time.
(Therapist)
So why did a prize fighter so early in his career like you let his father beat him?
-Donnie froze, the tears welling in his eyes.-
)Donnie Harris(
What? Wh-what are you talking about? The man didn’t lay a finger on me. He sparred with me, sure, and he kept me fit and made sure that I was able to take my licks in the cage. He never touched me otherwise.
-Donnie got angrier as he spoke, sitting forward in his seat aggressively.-
)Donnie Harris(
And who... who are you? Who are you to make such a fucking accusation about my family? My mother wouldn’t do anything about... wouldn’t have let that happen.
-The therapist tilted his head at Donnie’s stammer and quick correction.-
)Donnie Harris(
She was always there, making sure I was fed, clothed and safe. I think I need to leave.
-Donnie goes to get up, and the therapist doesn’t stop him; Donnie freezes at the lack of reaction.-
(Therapist)
If you feel you need to go, go. You can speak to my receptionist to set the next appointment.
-It had only been about 25 minutes of a one-hour session. Donnie, frozen in place, didn’t know what to do.-
(Therapist)
Or you can sit back down and tell me more about your family, or maybe talk about OCW.
-Donnie, as if dissociated from the moment, sat back down.-
)Donnie Harris(
It was good to get that contract from OCW, which gave me some hope since Dad died recently. It’s why I took my hiatus back at the beginning of the year, even though I had only had a few matches.
(Therapist)
He had a lot of effect on you.
)Donnie Harris(
All things considered, yeah, he did, and I’m... thankful for it.
-The therapist takes a couple notes, making sure to highlight the extra hesitation as he had before.-
)Donnie Harris(
I wouldn’t have the work ethic and relentless discipline I possess if not for him.
(Therapist)
Yes, you said this; it goes to show how strong an influence he has on your life.
-A gentle chiming alarm goes off, and both people look over to the wall clock; five minutes until it would be the top of the hour: the end of the appointment. The therapist looks back to Donnie first, the latter of whom still gazing at the analog clock, almost sad to be leaving.-
(Therapist)
Donnie, are you still here?
-His head whips back to the therapist, as if in his own little world.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, sorry; sort of drifted off there.
(Therapist)
Where were you just now?
)Donnie Harris(
Just... thinking about what’s coming.
(Therapist)
Your comeback.
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah, I think I’ve taken enough time off. With the shake-up that took place recently, I need to get back into the ring, make sure people still remember me.
(Therapist)
I think the saying in this case is that wrestling has a long memory. You had good matches, from what you described and from what I’ve seen, so I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Just worry about making a strong showing.
)Donnie Harris(
Amen to that. I needed this time off, to myself, to enjoy the silence; it was still hard to find the quiet of mind to be at peace though. Oh well, that comes with time and practice.
(Therapist)
Which DOES mean no beating yourself up if you can’t figure out how to do it. This is outside your dad’s realm of understanding, and I’m sure you know that.
-Solemnly, taking a moment to digest and consider the therapist’s words, Donnie just nods.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. He did a number on honing the physicality; this is on me to figure out my mind.
-Another alarm, another gentle chime echoing in the air: time to go. Without a word, Donnie gets up and shakes the man’s hand. He goes to the receptionist and books his next appointment before leaving.
He needed to get his muscles worked out. He needed to do something to ignore his mind, to quiet his heart. He didn’t want to cry.
He felt like nothing got done; nothing was accomplished.-
-A crackling fire, surrounded by pine trees, stars twinkling in the sky, a full moon’s light enough to mute those same stars as it emerges from behind the clouds: Donnie was standing in the middle of the woods at night, dressed in a pair of olive drab cargo pants, wearing black military-style hiking boots and a black sweater, the flash of a white v-neck barely noticeable from underneath.
It was just cold enough for his breath to be visible, barely. He looks up to the moon and stars, looking back to the fire, breathing deep with a grumbling breath out.-
)Donnie Harris(
It was a very long time ago when I was out camping last. It was me and my family: mom, dad, an aunt and uncle though I forget which ones, cousins; it was summer time, so it wasn’t as cold as tonight, but it was still nippy enough to switch from sandals to socks and shoes. In the air, you could tell that it wanted to rain; you could literally smell the fresh water in the air, mingling with the smell of pine and fir in the air. It was such a pleasant memory. I intend to make a few more pleasant memories, and there is no more appropriate place to do that than the most superstitiously ominous event on the OCW calendar.
-Sitting down on a tree stump close to the fire, the scene sits across from him, peering just over the flickering tongues of flame as he stares back into the lens.-
)Donnie Harris(
Yes, that’s right. I am going to be coming back with the Wheel of Misfortune, and there is no better opportunity to make a comeback than the open invitational gauntlet to take a shot at current Paradigm champion, Moonlight Rose. Now, it’s cute to think that this kitty cat girl of Japanese descent and Canadian citizenship is holding a major title. It is respectable to see her, standing at her pocket-sized 5-foot-nothin’ and being able to carry a title belt that probably weighs the same as her.
So, Rose... Moonlight... whatever you like to be called, I will happily bow to you before the match, as I am, first and foremost, a martial artist, and most martial arts are sourced from Asia, especially Japan; call it me respecting the Code of Honor in lieu of shaking your hand. I will never be afraid to show my respect, but that’s where it ends. After that, all bets are off, and I will work you to the bone, if I don’t break any in the process; if I don’t break any bones in your minute form, I’ll be disappointed in myself.
-Donnie takes a deep breath, the water vapor in his exhaled air mixing into the fire, almost pushing the fire out further as it blends together.-
)Donnie Harris(
But how am I to know who else I’m going to be facing? Is it a battle royal? Is it a true gauntlet match, where the winner sticks around and faces as many opponents as he or she can handle before being replaced? Yes, I had to do a little bit of research on the idea of the gauntlet match, to know exactly what I’m saying. Or will it be a championship shuffle, where whoever enters the match mixes it up until there’s a final pinfall before time runs out?
-Donnie stops, takes a moment, and finally shrugs.-
)Donnie Harris(
Who the fuck knows, right? Well, Strader will know. After all, she took over from Welsh; she’s got the book now; she’s the ma’am with the plan. So, it will depend on what competitor wants to get into the ring for the title shot against Moonlight Rose. Her lucha style does work for her, after all, being so small and light; that means she can move quickly and strike hard, and I can’t wait to be the wall she hits. I can’t wait to serve her up like a tennis ball and whack her from pillar to post. I’ll be the one to take her mask off so the doctors can stitch up her face, not maliciously. I’ve seen some nasty cuts in my time, being in MMA on the amateur level. It’s why I got out of there, whether it was the UFC, Bellator, or whomever, to hire me, but there was no fucking way I’d go to Brazil or Russia or the UAE. It’s just that I’m not one to accept fixed outcomes...
-Donnie stops, blinking.-
)Donnie Harris(
Says the guy in professional wrestling, but I see this place more like a haven for shooters: may the best grappler win. I’ve already had a good mix of competition, all from the top and the bottom. If it means I’m dwelling in the midcard, as they put it, I will take my licks and accept my lot, for now. I’m not planning on staying in the shit pit. I’m after the sun. I’m looking to rip the stars out of the sky and drag them, one or a million at a time, and shove them into my trophy case. I’m the guy who’s going to rip the moon out of the sky and carry it to the ring. Why? Because I’m a stellar talent; why else?
-Donnie laughs a bit, shaking his head.-
)Donnie Harris(
That sounded almost gimmicky, but that’s not what I’m about. I’m not going to talk like I wear a mask, or like I’m some maniac straight out of a cartoon or a comic book. I am a man; I will talk like a man. I do not like talking about striking a woman, whether she is my equal or not. It just doesn’t feel right, but, Moonlight Rose, you have something I want, and I’m not about to hold back just because you’re a woman. You’re technically a champion, and, as a champion, you are meant to face all comers, and that means you have to go toe to toe with anyone and everyone placed in your way. After Wheel of Misfortune, you will just have to accept that that person is going to be me. Or will the title shot come after the gauntlet? Well, that would definitely put you at an advantage, but that doesn’t mean your victory is guaranteed. If you face me, you will not have the chance to breathe, especially when I can get my breath back, hit that second wind; when that happens, all bets are fucking off, and there will be no number of OTKs you can hit to keep me from kicking out. The only way you’ll be able to win is if the ref counts to 10 and I can’t get up.
-Donnie warms his hands, his knuckles littered with scars and skin creased where tape had been applied; it was clear that Donnie had done some bare-knuckle boxing.-
)Donnie Harris(
Open invitational too; who knows if some of OCW’s current champions will join the match, just so that they can be double-champions? Well, they’re welcome to try. I know I owe PIC a few good shots to the body, and TLS we won’t get into, but I’m not done with him, no sir. I’m going to break that fucker’s ribs and leave him in the middle of the ring, as he coughs up blood and bile, his lungs filling with fluid as I watch his ass drown like some unfortunate soul with cystic fibrosis. Except TLS will be fortunate; his end will be quick, but still painful. But I could see Vhodka Black, I know I’ll be seeing SYNN again... Brooke Blakely and her fear-driven competitive streak...
-Once again, Donnie shrugs, totally indifferent to the three women he mentioned.-
)Donnie Harris(
And the only reason I recognize Black is from her match against PIC, so who knows what I’m going to be seeing when the bell rings? I can only promise one thing, and that is to get in that ring and give it my all. I can’t afford to hold back, not after what Nickleman proved to me. He let me fight; he let me punish him, and I will continue to punish the fools put in the ring to face me. Strader, make sure I’m in that match, because I’m not to be treated lightly, because I will not be treating anyone with anything more than ruthless aggression.
-Donnie takes a log and gently places it on the campfire, the fire stoked brighter with the addition of the fuel, the fire reflecting off his eyes with an excited glow.-
