The New Legacy of TIO, Part One
Aug 5, 2021 13:13:02 GMT -5
Marcus Welsh, petervaughn, and 2 more like this
Post by King Incredible on Aug 5, 2021 13:13:02 GMT -5
“Where the fuck… AM I?”
I stepped out of my black Hummer and lit a cigarette. I took the longest puff as I gave a good look to my surroundings; palm trees, sand… and a farm. Mary’s Ranch to be exact, just outside of Hileah, Florida. I remember waking up today, at my beautiful condo in Key West, when I got this slip of paper under my door to come to this address, almost four hours from home. I don’t even know who the fuck slipped it under my door but I have my guesses.
With a long drag and a sip of rum from my flask, I make my way across the sandy road and head into the farm proper. It has your typical farm belongings like long electric fences, barrels of hay and an assortment of animals including cows, chickens and more. I check the clock on my phone, reading close to eight in the evening, as I see the sun beginning to set behind the barn structure. I look around until seeing the downed silver weathervane I was directed to search for. The workers, mostly immigrants, stare at me, wondering why I was here but they do not stop to question as they continue their work. I walk into the smaller barn the weathervane was laid against and inside was the horrific smell of cow shit.
“Wonderful.”
“Good, you came.”
Startled for the briefest of moments, I turn around to see a federal agent walk towards me. I immediately shake my head.
“No, I reject. Thanks.”
I laugh as I turn to leave but another agent who I didn’t hear behind me closes the door to the barn. I glance back at the original agent who shows me his badge, as I read the name “Jasper Henderson”.
“Am I being arrested?” I asked, with a fiery tone.
“No,” Henderson started, “but--
“Good, you can’t hold me then,” I shouted, “so open the fucking doors and let me out.”
“You don’t even want to hear our offer?” Henderson asked, bringing out an envelope from under his dress jacket.
“It’s rather good,” the second agent said, as I looked over and he revealed his credentials, showing his name “Andrew Williams”.
“How’s it like having two first names as a whole name?” I scoffed, shaking my head.
“It’s fine,” Williams laughed, “tell me, why did you follow the instructions on a random piece of paper?”
“I’m not going to lie, it raised my curiosity,” I said honestly, “but I told the last agents three years ago that I was done.”
“You’re never done,” Henderson retorted, “you do realize we own your ass, right? You made the deal, remember? After all those years of cocaine use and distribution, the number of cases of overdose that most likely is linked to your work, you could and frankly should be rotting in a jail cell.”
“See,” Williams cut in, “this is where Henderson and I disagree.”
“Oh really?” I laugh, turning to Williams looking at him toe to head, “and why is that?”
“I see you as a valuable asset to the FBI,” Williams explained, “you know how these coke heads work, how they think, their moves and motives, you knew some of them personally.”
The barn doors suddenly open from the opposite end of the barn and comes in with a squealing, baby goat. He has it by the legs and puts it on the table and without warning takes his knife and cuts into the throat of the goat. The sounds of the goat become strange as the three of us watch the butcher continue to chop into the animal and then after a few swings… silence.
“Uh,” I said flabbergasted, “what in the actual fuck?”
“You’ve never been to a slaughterhouse before?” Henderson asked, offering me a cigarette.
“I have one,” I mentioned.
“No, it fell to the ground.”
I look down and see the cigarette as some of the hay on the ground catches fire. I stomp it out before any of it can continue to spread. I wave at the butcher in an apologetic manner before accepting the new cigarette while the butcher continues his work. The sound of a lighter igniting goes off behind me as Williams offers me his fire. I lean in, and take a new puff.
“So get the fuck to it I guess, eh?”
“Do you still wrestle?” Williams asked.
“Uh, no.”
“Don’t fucking lie to us,” Henderson cursed, “we know. This’ll be easier if you don’t lie.”
“Henderson is right,” Williams said, circling from behind and coming to the front, standing next to his partner, “we know you have a match in Odessa, Texas in a month.”
“Then why the fuck did you ask?” I cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“We’ve seen a large number of cocaine overdoses in Lubbock, Texas, not too far from where your match takes place,” Henderson explained.
“Isn’t that swell,” I said cheekly, “why don’t you and your partner Andy go check that out, why do you need me? I’m not an undercover cop, I’m not trained to go in and figure this shit out.”
“Listen,” Williams said, grabbing the envelope from Henderson, “we have a condition for you. When you made that deal years ago, it had a time limit on it.”
“I know,” I rolled my eyes, “twenty five fucking years. It’s only been what, five years?”
“That’s true,” Henderson nodded, “but I’m a nice guy - and I was able to bolster a deal that if you help us directly capture the kingpin of this distributor in Lubbock, or wherever it’s originating from, and you’ll no longer be in our services.”
“You mean I’ll be free?” I said, “that I won’t have to check in with you guys every month of my fucking life? I can go back to Canada if I want?”
“Sure,” Williams nodded as well, “but make sure we are clear. The kingpin has to be captured, not street dealers, or cooks. The guy behind the entire operation.”
“I’m not fucking stupid, I heard you,” I scoffed. “Do you have any idea who you think it is?”
“We do,” Williams said, putting the envelope on the bench next to where I was standing, “he’s gone underground. We haven’t seen him in close to four months.”
“What makes you think I’ll be able to fish him out?” I laughed.
“Check out the envelope,” Henderson said, putting a hand on my shoulder, “I think you’ll have an interest.”
Williams and Henderson offer me another cigarette for the road, which I accept. They leave the barn as I look over at the butcher, who has chopped the goat up into tiny pieces. I shake my head, smack my face before taking a deep breath and opening up the envelope. Various papers with notes about various dealers in Lubbock, where to start searching and names scatter the paper. Pictures with names at the bottom show the important people that need to be contacted in order to get to the kingpin and then I see another small envelope with the wording in permanent marker: TIO eyes. I slowly grab the envelope, thinking about how Henderson said I’d have an interest as my heart started to beat harder. I open it and out comes a lone picture in my hand.
My hands shake in rage as I look at the man that ruined my relationship with my dead daughter and nearly destroyed my life; Saxon Rowe. The thoughts of what he had done to me, and the butchering of the goat finally caught up to me as I vomit everywhere. I wipe the puke from my face.
“This time, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
The Incredible One is back, baby! It feels so good to be back and ready to take the world by storm. I will admit that the last couple of years haven't been good for yours truly. I went through some deep dark shit that I had to deal with on my own and I have come back out a better man than I ever was. This is the new and improved TIO. It took way too long for the powers at OCW to see that but luckily due to an intelligent CFO, we’re all getting what we want.
Except me, of course. Sure, I did get the roster spot I wanted but in order to even think about getting a shot at the OCW Championship, I have to go through The People’s GOAT, James Raven. History shows that Raven did beat me in the beginning of the Block Party tournament. Why don’t we talk about that? I should have never entered that tournament. My mind was sick, disturbed by the death of my daughter and everything that comes when a parent has to bury a child and my focus wasn’t wrestling. Raven beat me simply because he didn’t face TIO; he faced a loser masquerading as TIO. A weak individual who couldn’t face his demons and made excuses. He took his sorry ass and tried to demolish the legacy of TIO in OCW, GCWA and XWF. Not anymore.
To tell you the truth, I don’t know much about James Raven. I don’t need to sit here and spew the accomplishments he’s had; his rap sheet is as long as mine. I’m not going to give you the piss poor response by saying this isn’t the XWF son, it’s OCW, you don’t stand a chance. That’s beneath me. You know what else is beneath me, though? You. You go through life all giddy, and happy, and think that you are the People’s GOAT. You think just because you have won titles and have entered the Hall of Fames, you can call yourself the greatest of all time? I’ve done that too, James. So, why don’t I call myself the People’s GOAT? Why don’t I walk around with a big sign on my chest that says I’m the greatest wrestler of all time?
I don’t because I don’t need to. Whether you love me, or you hate me, the truth is that everyone knows day in and day out I am the best wrestler to have ever stepped into a ring. I get it by consistent winning of match awards, and showcasing my technical prowess and my physicality. I’ve only ever had one moniker James and that is being this damn incredible. And I earned that from the fans, I earned that from my peers. I have gained respect in this industry even from those who hate my fucking guts. They know the name the Incredible One because when my music hits and I make my way to the ring, they know that a wrestling clinic is about to unfold and they could be witnessing one of the greatest wrestling matches of their time.
And don’t you worry, James. Our match will be one of those matches. OCW, and the world, will know that once the dust settles in our match, it’ll be considered one of the best. I know you have skill, and our skills combined will tear the fucking roof down. We could’ve done it at Block Party but it wasn’t meant to be then. Truth be told, your win against me has driven me mad. The fact I allowed my feelings to compromise my skill and show you the weak side of me is something I will always regret. But I take that anger, that regret, and it fuels me, James. You don’t have anything to fight for, because you walk through life with a smile. I’m going to take that smile, and turn it upside down. No, I’m going to rip that smile from your face.
I know, and the world knows, I am the best fucking wrestler on this planet. You don’t, though. You think you are, and that’s okay, because you truly haven’t gotten the pleasure of getting your ass kicked by Mister Incredible. You better pray that Who’Re doesn’t agree to these provisions, and if she does, you better pray that that sun doesn’t leave the sky. If it does though and when that bell rings, James Raven will be face-to-face with the Incredible One and you will known then, that the self proclaimed GOAT isn’t even on the same level as the man who is… this - damn - incredible.
I stepped out of my black Hummer and lit a cigarette. I took the longest puff as I gave a good look to my surroundings; palm trees, sand… and a farm. Mary’s Ranch to be exact, just outside of Hileah, Florida. I remember waking up today, at my beautiful condo in Key West, when I got this slip of paper under my door to come to this address, almost four hours from home. I don’t even know who the fuck slipped it under my door but I have my guesses.
With a long drag and a sip of rum from my flask, I make my way across the sandy road and head into the farm proper. It has your typical farm belongings like long electric fences, barrels of hay and an assortment of animals including cows, chickens and more. I check the clock on my phone, reading close to eight in the evening, as I see the sun beginning to set behind the barn structure. I look around until seeing the downed silver weathervane I was directed to search for. The workers, mostly immigrants, stare at me, wondering why I was here but they do not stop to question as they continue their work. I walk into the smaller barn the weathervane was laid against and inside was the horrific smell of cow shit.
“Wonderful.”
“Good, you came.”
Startled for the briefest of moments, I turn around to see a federal agent walk towards me. I immediately shake my head.
“No, I reject. Thanks.”
I laugh as I turn to leave but another agent who I didn’t hear behind me closes the door to the barn. I glance back at the original agent who shows me his badge, as I read the name “Jasper Henderson”.
“Am I being arrested?” I asked, with a fiery tone.
“No,” Henderson started, “but--
“Good, you can’t hold me then,” I shouted, “so open the fucking doors and let me out.”
“You don’t even want to hear our offer?” Henderson asked, bringing out an envelope from under his dress jacket.
“It’s rather good,” the second agent said, as I looked over and he revealed his credentials, showing his name “Andrew Williams”.
“How’s it like having two first names as a whole name?” I scoffed, shaking my head.
“It’s fine,” Williams laughed, “tell me, why did you follow the instructions on a random piece of paper?”
“I’m not going to lie, it raised my curiosity,” I said honestly, “but I told the last agents three years ago that I was done.”
“You’re never done,” Henderson retorted, “you do realize we own your ass, right? You made the deal, remember? After all those years of cocaine use and distribution, the number of cases of overdose that most likely is linked to your work, you could and frankly should be rotting in a jail cell.”
“See,” Williams cut in, “this is where Henderson and I disagree.”
“Oh really?” I laugh, turning to Williams looking at him toe to head, “and why is that?”
“I see you as a valuable asset to the FBI,” Williams explained, “you know how these coke heads work, how they think, their moves and motives, you knew some of them personally.”
The barn doors suddenly open from the opposite end of the barn and comes in with a squealing, baby goat. He has it by the legs and puts it on the table and without warning takes his knife and cuts into the throat of the goat. The sounds of the goat become strange as the three of us watch the butcher continue to chop into the animal and then after a few swings… silence.
“Uh,” I said flabbergasted, “what in the actual fuck?”
“You’ve never been to a slaughterhouse before?” Henderson asked, offering me a cigarette.
“I have one,” I mentioned.
“No, it fell to the ground.”
I look down and see the cigarette as some of the hay on the ground catches fire. I stomp it out before any of it can continue to spread. I wave at the butcher in an apologetic manner before accepting the new cigarette while the butcher continues his work. The sound of a lighter igniting goes off behind me as Williams offers me his fire. I lean in, and take a new puff.
“So get the fuck to it I guess, eh?”
“Do you still wrestle?” Williams asked.
“Uh, no.”
“Don’t fucking lie to us,” Henderson cursed, “we know. This’ll be easier if you don’t lie.”
“Henderson is right,” Williams said, circling from behind and coming to the front, standing next to his partner, “we know you have a match in Odessa, Texas in a month.”
“Then why the fuck did you ask?” I cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“We’ve seen a large number of cocaine overdoses in Lubbock, Texas, not too far from where your match takes place,” Henderson explained.
“Isn’t that swell,” I said cheekly, “why don’t you and your partner Andy go check that out, why do you need me? I’m not an undercover cop, I’m not trained to go in and figure this shit out.”
“Listen,” Williams said, grabbing the envelope from Henderson, “we have a condition for you. When you made that deal years ago, it had a time limit on it.”
“I know,” I rolled my eyes, “twenty five fucking years. It’s only been what, five years?”
“That’s true,” Henderson nodded, “but I’m a nice guy - and I was able to bolster a deal that if you help us directly capture the kingpin of this distributor in Lubbock, or wherever it’s originating from, and you’ll no longer be in our services.”
“You mean I’ll be free?” I said, “that I won’t have to check in with you guys every month of my fucking life? I can go back to Canada if I want?”
“Sure,” Williams nodded as well, “but make sure we are clear. The kingpin has to be captured, not street dealers, or cooks. The guy behind the entire operation.”
“I’m not fucking stupid, I heard you,” I scoffed. “Do you have any idea who you think it is?”
“We do,” Williams said, putting the envelope on the bench next to where I was standing, “he’s gone underground. We haven’t seen him in close to four months.”
“What makes you think I’ll be able to fish him out?” I laughed.
“Check out the envelope,” Henderson said, putting a hand on my shoulder, “I think you’ll have an interest.”
Williams and Henderson offer me another cigarette for the road, which I accept. They leave the barn as I look over at the butcher, who has chopped the goat up into tiny pieces. I shake my head, smack my face before taking a deep breath and opening up the envelope. Various papers with notes about various dealers in Lubbock, where to start searching and names scatter the paper. Pictures with names at the bottom show the important people that need to be contacted in order to get to the kingpin and then I see another small envelope with the wording in permanent marker: TIO eyes. I slowly grab the envelope, thinking about how Henderson said I’d have an interest as my heart started to beat harder. I open it and out comes a lone picture in my hand.
My hands shake in rage as I look at the man that ruined my relationship with my dead daughter and nearly destroyed my life; Saxon Rowe. The thoughts of what he had done to me, and the butchering of the goat finally caught up to me as I vomit everywhere. I wipe the puke from my face.
“This time, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
***
The Incredible One is back, baby! It feels so good to be back and ready to take the world by storm. I will admit that the last couple of years haven't been good for yours truly. I went through some deep dark shit that I had to deal with on my own and I have come back out a better man than I ever was. This is the new and improved TIO. It took way too long for the powers at OCW to see that but luckily due to an intelligent CFO, we’re all getting what we want.
Except me, of course. Sure, I did get the roster spot I wanted but in order to even think about getting a shot at the OCW Championship, I have to go through The People’s GOAT, James Raven. History shows that Raven did beat me in the beginning of the Block Party tournament. Why don’t we talk about that? I should have never entered that tournament. My mind was sick, disturbed by the death of my daughter and everything that comes when a parent has to bury a child and my focus wasn’t wrestling. Raven beat me simply because he didn’t face TIO; he faced a loser masquerading as TIO. A weak individual who couldn’t face his demons and made excuses. He took his sorry ass and tried to demolish the legacy of TIO in OCW, GCWA and XWF. Not anymore.
To tell you the truth, I don’t know much about James Raven. I don’t need to sit here and spew the accomplishments he’s had; his rap sheet is as long as mine. I’m not going to give you the piss poor response by saying this isn’t the XWF son, it’s OCW, you don’t stand a chance. That’s beneath me. You know what else is beneath me, though? You. You go through life all giddy, and happy, and think that you are the People’s GOAT. You think just because you have won titles and have entered the Hall of Fames, you can call yourself the greatest of all time? I’ve done that too, James. So, why don’t I call myself the People’s GOAT? Why don’t I walk around with a big sign on my chest that says I’m the greatest wrestler of all time?
I don’t because I don’t need to. Whether you love me, or you hate me, the truth is that everyone knows day in and day out I am the best wrestler to have ever stepped into a ring. I get it by consistent winning of match awards, and showcasing my technical prowess and my physicality. I’ve only ever had one moniker James and that is being this damn incredible. And I earned that from the fans, I earned that from my peers. I have gained respect in this industry even from those who hate my fucking guts. They know the name the Incredible One because when my music hits and I make my way to the ring, they know that a wrestling clinic is about to unfold and they could be witnessing one of the greatest wrestling matches of their time.
And don’t you worry, James. Our match will be one of those matches. OCW, and the world, will know that once the dust settles in our match, it’ll be considered one of the best. I know you have skill, and our skills combined will tear the fucking roof down. We could’ve done it at Block Party but it wasn’t meant to be then. Truth be told, your win against me has driven me mad. The fact I allowed my feelings to compromise my skill and show you the weak side of me is something I will always regret. But I take that anger, that regret, and it fuels me, James. You don’t have anything to fight for, because you walk through life with a smile. I’m going to take that smile, and turn it upside down. No, I’m going to rip that smile from your face.
I know, and the world knows, I am the best fucking wrestler on this planet. You don’t, though. You think you are, and that’s okay, because you truly haven’t gotten the pleasure of getting your ass kicked by Mister Incredible. You better pray that Who’Re doesn’t agree to these provisions, and if she does, you better pray that that sun doesn’t leave the sky. If it does though and when that bell rings, James Raven will be face-to-face with the Incredible One and you will known then, that the self proclaimed GOAT isn’t even on the same level as the man who is… this - damn - incredible.
