The Collectors' Apprentice: RP #2

[Deleted]

Slaughterhouse Gym || New York City, New York || 6:19 PM

After my short and sweet meeting with my grandfather this afternoon, I took Frankie for a ride on the Harley along the coast on Long Island. There are things going on right now that he just doesn’t understand. Things I can’t begin to explain to him. He’s an intelligent young man and he knows things are happening that he can’t wrap his head around. A result of that is he and I are not really getting along well. His own turbulent life plays its part too. More often than not, he’s happy. He’s funny, adorable, insert adjective here. Yet there are times when his past and mine butt heads.



We had a small chat as we visited both of our mothers graves. Well, my mothers grave. His mother was cremated and her ashes scattered at a park on the Island. We visited the park and had a little heart to heart. Contrary to the way I carry myself in the eyes of OCW, I care rather deeply about a lot of things. Frankie being at the top of that list along with his baby brother and sister.



When he’s acting out, he has a tendency to lash out in anger at me with violence. No doubt a trait he picked up from his birth father. Frankie is small for his age so nothing he ever does to me hurts physically so much as mentally. He’s in therapy, but it’s been a slow progression. When his head is right, he’s funny. He’s sweet. He’s the most lovable little shithead in the world.



The aggressive Frankie worries me to no end. It’s hurt, it’s anger, it’s confusion and he doesn’t yet know how to let those feelings out in a healthy manner. The other Frankie is so much easier. It’s not that I didn’t know he was like this before I adopted him. I did know. And I’ll love him all the same whether he gets his head right or not. If I could take his pain away I would. Unfortunately, only he can do that through his own hard work. It hurts though, seeing him struggle when he struggles. He’ll yell and scream at me at the top of his lungs until his words are a mangled mess of word salad and he just starts sobbing uncontrollably. The only thing I can do at that point is hold him tight. So that’s what I did. He sobbed into my chest and I held him tight, shed my own tears, and repeatedly reminded him how much I love him.



I purposely choose never to show that side of him to my audience. While I do make mention of it because its as much a part of him as he is of me, I don’t show it because I do not and will not exploit a childs trauma for clicks and views.



After our heart to heart, I took him home. Being emotionally high strung the way he is… it’s exhausting for him. We played some video games for a little bit before he laid down for a nap. As much as it saddens me, I had to leave for business before he woke.



That brings me to where I am now.



Rolling the old rumbling Harley to a stop outside the Slaughterhouse Gym, I kill the engine and step off. Knowing Ian’s schedule like the back of my hand, I know he’s training with… ughhh… Daniel today. Stepping inside the gym, I watch with interest as Ian lands a crisp dropkick to his dad, causing him to spill out of the ring and fall to the floor.



“Nice job Ian!” I say with a little bit of applause.



Not realizing I was there, he darts his head in my direction. “Hey man thanks, when did you come in?” he asks as I reach the ring. Reaching my hand out, I help Daniel Dream to his feet. Patting me on the shoulder before he departs, I enter the ring.



After a quick bro hug, Ian asks, “so what’s up? What brings you down here?”



Pacing a moment, pondering in my head whether I want to bring him into this or not…



“Thad? Man what’s up?” he asks again, grabbing my arm and stopping me from pacing.



“I got a job Ian,” I finally answer him.



“Yeah you got like seven jobs,” he fires back, causing me to look at him in confusion. “XWF, OCW, ‘Lords of Stink’ just came out. ‘The Wife’ comes out soon…”



“No… Ian…”



“Not to mention the press crap you always do,” he continues on.



“Ian, that’s not…”



“Then there’s…”



“IAN!” I shout with a smile as I place my hands on his shoulders, stopping him from going on and on. “Not that kind of job.”



“Ohh?”



“I met with my grandfather earlier,” I inform him. “He’s a loan shark and I need to do some collection work for him. You gonna help me out?”



“What kind of help?” Ian asks the obvious.



“It’s pretty lucrative, so I can promise you money,” I begin to explain. “But what I need is a guy with a very particular set of skills. Skills he’s acquired over a very short career. Skills that make him a nightmare for people that owe my grandfather money…”



“Thad,” he stops me with a raise of his hand. “Are you paraphrasing Liam Neeson in ‘Taken’?”



“Yes,” I answer with a smile.



Ian bro hugs me again. “Heckin’ yeah, I’m in.”



“Leave it to the uninventive,” I begin as I turn my head toward the camera.



“Huh?” Ian asks, contorting his face in confusion. Noticing the camera for what seems like the first time, “Oh right… promo.”



“I may or may not have made up the word ‘uninventive’ but the fact of the matter is really quite simple. Brim reaches for the lowest hanging fruit available which is somewhat surprising considering a near 400 pound man has probably never tasted a fruit in his life… See the irony there? Brim picks the low hanging fruit to hit me with, being that I’m my Dad’s son as if I haven’t dealt with the same comments and the same line of bullshit for going on five years only to throw some mud in his direction by grabbing the lowest hanging fruit of all… his weight.



“The problem is though, I’ve beaten most everyone that’s ever tried that bullshit with me. Matches are not won and lost in the promos but it’s very indicative of the brain power in which you’re dealing with. The answer to that question is: not much.



“For nearly five years I have had opponents hit me with “ha! Your dad is your dad… stupid” as if that means fuck all to anyone. My father is in fact my father. He is in fact enshrined in the XWF Hall of Legends and wearing his last name 100% got my foot in the door over there.



“Brim, I’ll ask you the same thing I’ve asked fifty other opponents over the years: so what? Wearing the same last name as my father is where my similarities with him die its quick and painless death. I’m in no Halls of Fame but I’m better than he ever was and to deny that simply based on whatever ill thought preconceived notions you have about me is where you’ve already lost and we’re barely three weeks out from Under The Lights.



“You’re a mental midget and you proved that with every word you spewed in my direction. Hell, you’ve proved that your entire life haven’t you? You don’t even know if you had two or three matches before OCW- that’s just fucking stupid. You’re a big man, an athletic man, but you blamed all your failures you’ve had in life on anyone and anything except right where it belongs. You’ve placed the blame at the doorstep of your absentee father, your dead mother and the fact you got caught dealing. Fuck man, you even stopped juuuuust short of putting the blame for your most recent failure at the feet of Peter Vaughn and Xavier Lux utilizing the rules placed in front of them by the brass at OCW, in order to make sure you know your place in the pecking order and you didn’t some how accidentally fall on Lux and crush your way to a world title.



“I have no love for either of those men but to blame them for playing by the same rules YOU also could’ve played with is just absolutely fucking pathetic. It’s weakness in a wrestling sense, even more so in a promo sense, in its purest... fucking... form.



“You lost, Brim, because as big as you are, you really are a mental midget. You lost because you didn’t utilize the rules to your advantage thinking your overgrown strength was enough to get the job done. There’s a reason why men like me and Xavier Lux are world champions and men like you get fed to us. Because you’re big and strong and it gives the fans that pay their money to see us fight, a good reason to think ‘well maybe Lux’ or ‘well maybe Thad really did bite off more than he can chew this time.’



“When the reality is it just tells a better story than someone like me beating a man like Ed Houston. Whether they love me or hate me the fans of OCW will pay to see me get my ass kicked and I know wholeheartedly you will kick my ass all over that ring Brim. But what they’re getting in return for their money is a Thaddeus Duke victory because no matter your size, no matter your strength, I just always seem to overcome when the odds are stacked against me.



“I haven’t been a perceived underdog in quite a long time now Brim. And I’m not even now. But perception in the eye of the beholder is that a 6’1” 217 pound man should have his hands full with a 400 pound behemoth with little or no chance for survival. Fact is, I’m better than you right now and I was better than you the day I laced up my boots for the very first time when I was a 17 year old success story and not a 35 year old failure.



“Not all is lost though, Brim. You’ll have yourself a great match at Under The Lights because I’ll give you that. I’ll do that Brim, simply because I can.



“This dude… I swear… he condemns me for being a professional wrestling megastar. He condemns me for that Whore who writes our checks backing up the proverbial Brinks truck at my doorstep and caving to each and every one of my demands.



“Brim.



“My man.



“You got a late start to your career, I get that. But don’t hate me simply because I got everything you should aspire to have. Don’t hate me simply because I legitimately worked my ass off to NOT be viewed simply as my fathers son. Don’t hate me simply because I AM everything you should aspire to be.



“There’s plenty of legitimate reasons for you to hate me, don’t rely on the lazy arbitrary ones.



“Things like…”



“You’re obnoxious,” Ian chimes in.



“Ian?” I nod in his direction.



“Right sorry,” he replies quickly.



“I am obnoxious. I act like I’m the best thing since sliced fucking bread and what’s worse Brim, is then I go out there in the ring and I back it up. You coming out here and figurative sucking my dick while flailing wildly and landing lazy backhanded compliments… C’mon man.



“That’s part of the reason I chose OCW.



“To push talented people like you, to work harder than that. To push talented people like you, to be BETTER than that.



“Congratulations Brim, you get to lose the Savage championship in back to back pay per view events but at least this time, my friend, you don’t have the pressure of being the defending champion weighing you down. Unfortunately you do have the added pressure of having to beat me and my friend… that’s a hell of a LOT more difficult than the challenges of defending a title.”



“Thad?” Ian calls out and I look over at him. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” His comment causes me to chuckle as Ian Dream and I make our way to the Slaughterhouse Gym exit.