Post by King Incredible on Mar 29, 2022 6:40:45 GMT -5
Cold, damp and depressing is the word to describe the inside to the Fitzgibbon Street Garda Station that’s only about a five minute walk from Croke Park, where OCW had its Luck of the Violent PPV a day ago. I was sitting inside a holding cell, with blood still dried on my skin and my clothes soaked in Irish beer. I hocked a loogie and spit it in a puddle by my feet as a door opened and out came walking an officer twirling the keys in his hand.
“Oy! Boyo!” The officer yelled, “today’s ya lucky day! Your employer’s have posted your bail and a deal was cut between them and the city of Ireland.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked quietly, reflecting on the previous night's events, “and what kind of deal is that?”
The officer looked through the bars of the holding cell with a stern look.
“You’re never allowed to step into the city of Dublin again, my friend.”
I shrugged my shoulders as I shook my heads, laughing a bit.
“Something funny?” the officer asked, bluntly.
“No,” I said, with a grin, “can I get something to drink? Water?”
“I’ll see if I can find something,” the officer hesitated at first but nodded, “your work’s charter bus will be here to get you in a couple hours. Oh, and sorry about the puddle, we had an A/C leak.”
The officer turns around and heads into the administration section of the station, leaving me alone in the holding cells. I run my hand through my crusted hair, probably from blood, as I rub my temples thinking about the events that transpired on the night of the PPV. I haven’t had the chance to rewatch it, and I’m not sure if I will, as all I know is I almost put CJ’s hand through a meat grinder. I almost mutilated my friend–
“Wake the fuck up.”
I jolted my head up mid-thought, looking around for the source of the voice, but all I saw was the empty holding cell, with its peeling paint on the concrete and depressing posters of “how to do better”. Thinking maybe I was just a little delirious from lack of sleep, I decided to lay down on the bench and close my eyes to get some shut eye.
“That’s the opposite of sleep, you fucking idiot.”
I fell from the bench in a panic, falling into the puddle.
“Hey, watch it!”
Stunned, I get up and sit back down and hesitantly stare at the puddle to see my reflection staring back at me.
“I must be going insane,” I said out loud.
All of a sudden, the reflection comes to life with a grin.
“No, you’re just enlightened!”
“Oh shit,” I said, shaking my head violently, “I am going insane.”
I get to a sitting position on the bench and put my head between my legs and rock back and forth.
“Oh, now you just look fucking stupid,” the reflection said.
“I’m not listening to you,” I said, my voice shaking, “I’m just tired and thirsty, and you’re a hallucination.”
“LOOK AT ME!”
I stop shaking back and forth, and with a moment's hesitation, I peek my head up from my knee and see the reflection staring back at me, disappointed.
“You look really fucking stupid, sit up!”
“I don’t understand,” I ask, with the most confused look on my face, but unable to see it in the puddle.
“Last night was fucking awesome, wasn’t it?” The reflection asked, beaming with joy.
“Last night?” I scoffed, “No, no it wasn’t.”
“You need to lighten the fuck up!” The reflection cursed, “and get the fuck use to it!”
“Get use to what?”
“The violence,” the reflection smirked, raising his eyebrows, “that was just a taste of what we’re capable of.”
“I don’t want to– wait,” I stop mid sentence, “what do you mean… ‘us’?
“As in you and me!” The reflection said, delighted, “We’re a team! You’re the brawns and I’m the brains!”
“My brains are just fine… I think,” I said, scratching my chin.
“With all due respect,” the reflection started, “no, wait, fuck respect. When did being nice ever get you anywhere?”
“I won the OCW Championship,” I said, firmly.
“You were still on the fucking fence,” the reflection explained, “but look back to the early days of 2017 and your entire 2014 run… you were a force to be reckoned with. And that was because of me! I’ve been trapped in your body for so long and was only really able to show glimpses of myself when you lost control.”
“Lost control?”
“Do you really think you were capable of whipping Mia Stone?” The reflection scoffed, “or having that Glass Table Supremacy Match against Nate Dawg in SIW? Oh, and who do you think helped you survive Chad Vargas in your Pub Crawl Brawl at Like There’s No Tomorrow when you kept downing all those alcoholic drinks?”
“Glass Table… WHAT?!” I screamed, getting up, pacing back and forth in the holding cell, “I don’t even remember any of these–”
The conversation is interrupted by the police officer coming in with a bottle of water. He looks at me, strangely, as he opens the cap and throws it in the wastebasket outside the cell.
“Who are you talking to?” the officer asked.
“No one,” I said, nervously, “I’m just thinking out loud.”
I nodded furiously to this idea as the officer did an audible scoff before handing me the bottle of water. I go to grab it but he holds onto it for another moment.
“I’m going to trust you that you’re not going to try and kill yourself with this bottle,” the officer asked, politely.
“I wouldn’t even know how to?” I admitted.
“Oh the stories I could tell you…” The officer laughed as he let go of the water bottle and headed back to the admin area.
“Good cover,” the reflection whispered.
“I’m so thirsty,” I whined, getting ready to down the water.
“Patience!” The reflection yelled, “patience, you fuck!”
“Why?” I said, stopping before the water hit my chapped lips.
“You’re probably right,” the reflection admitted, “part of this is probably because you are dehydrated. So if you drink that, I’ll go.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I laughed, getting ready to drink.
“Just wait!”
Standing there, with the bottle inches from my mouth and my other hand on my lips, I look back at the puddle, as the reflection has that desperate look. I sigh heavily, as I step over the puddle carefully, sit back down and place the drink next to me.
“You got one minute.”
“Perfect!” The reflection exclaimed, “I know you’re scared to admit this Ian, and you think this makes you insane, and in the eyes of the public, yes, you might appear insane. In reality, you are one of a few individuals with heightened access to your brain.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” I laughed, “I was told I have brain damage because I almost overdosed from a sniff of coke.”
“BRAIN DAMAGE?!” The reflection yelled, “fuck, how insulting! I’m sorry you were told otherwise, Ian, I truly am. I wanted to propose something to you, because the only time I’ve been able to appear is from headaches, and it’s a painful transition for both of us.”
“Wait, when I get headaches, you get ‘em too?” I asked.
“YES! We have the same brain you fucking idiot,” the reflection exclaimed, “oh, sorry, I have a bad case of cursing.”
“Whatever,” I shook my head, “get on with your proposition.”
“Oh yes!” The reflection said excitedly, “I would like to be able to appear and speak at will. Before, your brain has had a sort of defense mechanism installed, so to speak, so I can’t appear unless you are under duress. All you need to do is tell it that I’m OK and then I can help you whenever! I can interject at any time! I’ll admit to you this, I am not strong, I am fast… but not strong. But you… you’ve trained your entire life and have proven to be the greatest wrestler on this planet. Before when I did come out - we were absolutely unstoppable! 2017 you were OCW WRESTLER OF THE YEAR! 2022 I want for us to have that again! You just need to accept I am here to help us, and not hinder us!”
I lean onto my knees and stare deeply into my reflection’s eyes, with great intensity.
“Oh, I like that,” the reflection nodded.
“What do I call you?” I asked, firmly.
“What?” the reflection asked back, perplexed, “I never thought of that honestly.”
“I’m not calling you by my first name,” I said, “that would be weird.”
“For sure,” the reflection paused to think, “I am here to help enlighten you, and enlighten the entirety of OCW and the world… Call me Bishop.”
“Still a bit weird,” I thought out loud, “but fine.”
“Wonderful,” Bishop smiled.
Without another word, I grabbed the bottle and drank the entire contents of it in under ten seconds before scrunching it up in my hands and throwing it across the cell. I looked down at the puddle, and as Bishop predicted, he was gone and my reflection was my own. I wave at the puddle, and it waves back, showing it was indeed my own reflection. I run my hands over my beard, closing my eyes and thinking about the conversation that had just transpired. I look at the puddle, with a sinister grin, one last time as the officer begins to come to let me out.
“Help me.”
“Oy! Boyo!” The officer yelled, “today’s ya lucky day! Your employer’s have posted your bail and a deal was cut between them and the city of Ireland.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked quietly, reflecting on the previous night's events, “and what kind of deal is that?”
The officer looked through the bars of the holding cell with a stern look.
“You’re never allowed to step into the city of Dublin again, my friend.”
I shrugged my shoulders as I shook my heads, laughing a bit.
“Something funny?” the officer asked, bluntly.
“No,” I said, with a grin, “can I get something to drink? Water?”
“I’ll see if I can find something,” the officer hesitated at first but nodded, “your work’s charter bus will be here to get you in a couple hours. Oh, and sorry about the puddle, we had an A/C leak.”
The officer turns around and heads into the administration section of the station, leaving me alone in the holding cells. I run my hand through my crusted hair, probably from blood, as I rub my temples thinking about the events that transpired on the night of the PPV. I haven’t had the chance to rewatch it, and I’m not sure if I will, as all I know is I almost put CJ’s hand through a meat grinder. I almost mutilated my friend–
“Wake the fuck up.”
I jolted my head up mid-thought, looking around for the source of the voice, but all I saw was the empty holding cell, with its peeling paint on the concrete and depressing posters of “how to do better”. Thinking maybe I was just a little delirious from lack of sleep, I decided to lay down on the bench and close my eyes to get some shut eye.
“That’s the opposite of sleep, you fucking idiot.”
I fell from the bench in a panic, falling into the puddle.
“Hey, watch it!”
Stunned, I get up and sit back down and hesitantly stare at the puddle to see my reflection staring back at me.
“I must be going insane,” I said out loud.
All of a sudden, the reflection comes to life with a grin.
“No, you’re just enlightened!”
“Oh shit,” I said, shaking my head violently, “I am going insane.”
I get to a sitting position on the bench and put my head between my legs and rock back and forth.
“Oh, now you just look fucking stupid,” the reflection said.
“I’m not listening to you,” I said, my voice shaking, “I’m just tired and thirsty, and you’re a hallucination.”
“LOOK AT ME!”
I stop shaking back and forth, and with a moment's hesitation, I peek my head up from my knee and see the reflection staring back at me, disappointed.
“You look really fucking stupid, sit up!”
“I don’t understand,” I ask, with the most confused look on my face, but unable to see it in the puddle.
“Last night was fucking awesome, wasn’t it?” The reflection asked, beaming with joy.
“Last night?” I scoffed, “No, no it wasn’t.”
“You need to lighten the fuck up!” The reflection cursed, “and get the fuck use to it!”
“Get use to what?”
“The violence,” the reflection smirked, raising his eyebrows, “that was just a taste of what we’re capable of.”
“I don’t want to– wait,” I stop mid sentence, “what do you mean… ‘us’?
“As in you and me!” The reflection said, delighted, “We’re a team! You’re the brawns and I’m the brains!”
“My brains are just fine… I think,” I said, scratching my chin.
“With all due respect,” the reflection started, “no, wait, fuck respect. When did being nice ever get you anywhere?”
“I won the OCW Championship,” I said, firmly.
“You were still on the fucking fence,” the reflection explained, “but look back to the early days of 2017 and your entire 2014 run… you were a force to be reckoned with. And that was because of me! I’ve been trapped in your body for so long and was only really able to show glimpses of myself when you lost control.”
“Lost control?”
“Do you really think you were capable of whipping Mia Stone?” The reflection scoffed, “or having that Glass Table Supremacy Match against Nate Dawg in SIW? Oh, and who do you think helped you survive Chad Vargas in your Pub Crawl Brawl at Like There’s No Tomorrow when you kept downing all those alcoholic drinks?”
“Glass Table… WHAT?!” I screamed, getting up, pacing back and forth in the holding cell, “I don’t even remember any of these–”
The conversation is interrupted by the police officer coming in with a bottle of water. He looks at me, strangely, as he opens the cap and throws it in the wastebasket outside the cell.
“Who are you talking to?” the officer asked.
“No one,” I said, nervously, “I’m just thinking out loud.”
I nodded furiously to this idea as the officer did an audible scoff before handing me the bottle of water. I go to grab it but he holds onto it for another moment.
“I’m going to trust you that you’re not going to try and kill yourself with this bottle,” the officer asked, politely.
“I wouldn’t even know how to?” I admitted.
“Oh the stories I could tell you…” The officer laughed as he let go of the water bottle and headed back to the admin area.
“Good cover,” the reflection whispered.
“I’m so thirsty,” I whined, getting ready to down the water.
“Patience!” The reflection yelled, “patience, you fuck!”
“Why?” I said, stopping before the water hit my chapped lips.
“You’re probably right,” the reflection admitted, “part of this is probably because you are dehydrated. So if you drink that, I’ll go.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I laughed, getting ready to drink.
“Just wait!”
Standing there, with the bottle inches from my mouth and my other hand on my lips, I look back at the puddle, as the reflection has that desperate look. I sigh heavily, as I step over the puddle carefully, sit back down and place the drink next to me.
“You got one minute.”
“Perfect!” The reflection exclaimed, “I know you’re scared to admit this Ian, and you think this makes you insane, and in the eyes of the public, yes, you might appear insane. In reality, you are one of a few individuals with heightened access to your brain.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” I laughed, “I was told I have brain damage because I almost overdosed from a sniff of coke.”
“BRAIN DAMAGE?!” The reflection yelled, “fuck, how insulting! I’m sorry you were told otherwise, Ian, I truly am. I wanted to propose something to you, because the only time I’ve been able to appear is from headaches, and it’s a painful transition for both of us.”
“Wait, when I get headaches, you get ‘em too?” I asked.
“YES! We have the same brain you fucking idiot,” the reflection exclaimed, “oh, sorry, I have a bad case of cursing.”
“Whatever,” I shook my head, “get on with your proposition.”
“Oh yes!” The reflection said excitedly, “I would like to be able to appear and speak at will. Before, your brain has had a sort of defense mechanism installed, so to speak, so I can’t appear unless you are under duress. All you need to do is tell it that I’m OK and then I can help you whenever! I can interject at any time! I’ll admit to you this, I am not strong, I am fast… but not strong. But you… you’ve trained your entire life and have proven to be the greatest wrestler on this planet. Before when I did come out - we were absolutely unstoppable! 2017 you were OCW WRESTLER OF THE YEAR! 2022 I want for us to have that again! You just need to accept I am here to help us, and not hinder us!”
I lean onto my knees and stare deeply into my reflection’s eyes, with great intensity.
“Oh, I like that,” the reflection nodded.
“What do I call you?” I asked, firmly.
“What?” the reflection asked back, perplexed, “I never thought of that honestly.”
“I’m not calling you by my first name,” I said, “that would be weird.”
“For sure,” the reflection paused to think, “I am here to help enlighten you, and enlighten the entirety of OCW and the world… Call me Bishop.”
“Still a bit weird,” I thought out loud, “but fine.”
“Wonderful,” Bishop smiled.
Without another word, I grabbed the bottle and drank the entire contents of it in under ten seconds before scrunching it up in my hands and throwing it across the cell. I looked down at the puddle, and as Bishop predicted, he was gone and my reflection was my own. I wave at the puddle, and it waves back, showing it was indeed my own reflection. I run my hands over my beard, closing my eyes and thinking about the conversation that had just transpired. I look at the puddle, with a sinister grin, one last time as the officer begins to come to let me out.
“Help me.”