Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2022 16:47:53 GMT -5
Shangri-La Hotel
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
I know what happened in the main event last night. I know how it looks, but I do not care. I know people think what happened was done in order to make my wife a champion. Truth is, Cypher was being fucked beyond recognition whether the title was on the line or not, whether Sahara was facing him or not.
Despite all the warnings, despite all the mocking from people like Lissie Hope, we didn’t listen. The man saved my life. It built a bond between us, and a level of trust. Yes, as his friend I turned a blind eye to mostly all of his misdeeds. He could have betrayed me at any time for any reason… other than money. He never had to betray my son and that is something I will never forgive, and I’ll most certainly never forget.
He’s told me before that he’d betray anyone for the right amount of money so I thought we were safe. Tyler doesn’t know anyone with bank statements like mine. That’s not a brag, it’s just a fact. I inherited an exorbitant amount of wealth nearly seven years ago and since that time I’ve almost tripled my original fortune because I hired smart people to handle my finances.
If he wanted money, or needed it so badly, all he ever needed to do was hit me up and he knew that. It wasn’t about the money and it never was. It’s never been any more clear than it is right now that it’s the betrayal that gets Tyler off. Whether it's the hack and later release of private images or selling out an eleven year old kid that thought he was a friend. It’s the joy of fucking someone over that gets his little needle dick hard.
I have never dealt with betrayal very well, not even perceived betrayal. It happens to me so little, that I just don’t know how to react to it properly. Lying awake in this hotel bed, I stare up at the ceiling remembering my friend, my brother Corey Smith. He and I went to war against each other a year ago and our relationship never truly recovered.
His betrayal was more in my head than it was a reality. While there was certainly some merit to my thought process, I should have known better than to trust my paranoid gut instinct. See, paranoia is something that develops rapidly when you and your children become the targets of murderous mad men. In dealing with the perception of betrayal, I hurt him before he could hurt me.
I’m not proud of it.
Had I been of sound mind during that time, perhaps I’d have thought differently about Corey and his friendship with a disturbed man that had visions and dreams about my son holding my severed head. Corey and I were close. Very close. Like closer than Sebastian Bryce and I close. There’s a reason I refer to him as my brother despite him not having a single drop of Duke blood coursing through his veins. I love that man with my whole entire heart but even still, I couldn’t shake the paranoia. I couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal that in reality did not exist. So, I hurt him badly. Physically and emotionally, but the emotional pain it caused was far worse than anything physical.
We’ve mended fences since that time. Even still, our relationship remains a mere shell of what it used to be. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. A day does not pass where I do not regret what I did to him. I miss the way things used to be, before I fucked it all up.
Betrayal hurts.
I loved Tyler.
Lauren loved Tyler.
Frankie loved Tyler.
I’m in no way celebrating Lauren’s victory or her winning of his championship. Instead, I find myself mourning loss. Frankie told me two weeks ago. Not wanting a repeat of the Corey Smith fiasco, I hesitated. I wanted to think my boy was lying to me. That he was somehow mistaken. That in the moment, he got his facts wrong and his eyes deceived him. You see it a thousand times a day where a victim of a crime isn’t believed and I’m ashamed that I was falling into that category.
Frankie had no reason to lie. He had no motive. He’s a young boy that’s filled with love and kindness with no evidence of hate anywhere in his little body. All he did was tell me what happened, but even then, I needed to verify. I needed to be sure, so I waited.
Two days ago, under court order, the TD Garden security force was compelled to send me the video evidence of that night and my worst fears were confirmed. Despite my unwillingness to believe it, in my heart of hearts, I knew it was true.
So Tuesday after the kidnapping, I started preparing for war.
Or at least, the professional wrestling equivalent to war.
If confirmed, I wanted to be ready to move as soon as humanly possible. For two weeks, I set up Cyrus Braddock as a decoy. For two weeks I lied through my teeth saying I couldn’t find him, couldn’t track him down, couldn’t get a hold of him. The reality is, he’d never left my side. He’s a big tough son of a bitch but, like me, has a soft spot for innocent children. Riddled with guilt that it happened under his watch, he wanted to be involved anyway he could.
Enter Charlie Nickles.
Make no mistake, there is no love between us. He’s of a different ilk than me and mine. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s a fact. I have no allies here. OCW chose on its own accord to hate me without justifiable reason so I started giving them reasons to hate me to protect them from their own prejudice. Charlie Nickles was part of that plan. Signing one of the most shitty human beings in the industry to infiltrate OCW with his particular brand of sickness delights me. Part of that somewhat lucrative deal that I signed him to, was to help me out in this crusade against Cypher.
Easton Alexander making the mistake of targeting my kid to get back at me is one thing. He and I aren’t friends and in all likelihood, we never will be. Tyler on the other hand, he’s been in my circle. He’s stayed at my house. Slept in one of my rooms, showered in my bathroom, ate dinner in my kitchen and played with my lion. Hell, I introduced him to Seb and Sloane!
He was one of us.
People all over twitter and all through OCW blame me for what happened to Frankie while just like Easton, Tyler got the free pass. It would anger me, if it wasn’t so god damn predictable. In a way though, they’re right. Thing is, they’re too stupid to know why they’re partially right.
See, I know I’m not at fault for Frankie’s kidnapping. I’m not at fault for Easton and Tyler making the decisions they made. I’ll never try to rationalize what they did in order to make myself feel better for defending their actions like the mindless heels that inhabit this business.
I mean, victim blaming is the status quo in this world.
It is though, my fault for turning a blind eye and ignoring all the red flags while actively choosing to trust Tyler and accept him as one of our own. Had he betrayed me, and only me, I’d have handled this myself and Tyler would still be employed.
But he didn’t.
So he isn’t.
It was the perfect plan.
Canada is the home of the most infamous screwjob in the history of this business so the locale made sense to me. There was no way I was opening it up to the possibility that he’d somehow squeak away and get the hell out of dodge before the world came down around him. It was Montreal meets Dallas and John F. Kennedy.
He would not be allowed to leave Toronto.
For two weeks I set Cyrus up as a decoy. The plan was for him to stay scarce and lay low until last night. It called for him to appear as if he was acting against my wife while everyone thought I was out of town which activated Nickles. Charlie vowing to watch Lauren’s back was done in order to get him to the scene of the ‘crime’ with no one being tipped off, especially Tyler, and he and Braddock pulled it off brilliantly. Cypher mounting his comeback was all part of the conspiracy. Killing the power to the arena was the most integral part of the plan because had that not happened, there’s no cover for the four of us to surround him from inside the ring. I didn’t need to show the video footage. I didn’t have to show the world his treachery, but it bought enough time and was entirely meant to get into his head.
It worked flawlessly.
What ensued was the methodical, systematic dissection of the now former TransAtlantic Champion, not out of desire for him to lose the strap and Sahara to wear it, but out of vengeance for my son who did not and could not fight back against grown men.
People will no doubt object to what was done to him.
They already are.
People will object to Sahara being crowned champion.
They’re already doing that too.
They will object to me terminating his contract on live world wide television but I can promise each and every one of you that choose to watch this promo, there is exactly zero chance that I’d let him work in my company and take money from me in order to do it.
It’s funny to me, in a disgusting way. There’s more noise and protest for me and what I did last night than there ever was for an innocent child whose only crime was being my son. I’m not saying that I’m morally superior to the rest of the industry, but what I am saying, is that the rest of this industry is entirely devoid of any legitimate moral compass.
I do not now, nor will I ever feel guilty for the justifiable, albeit figurative, public execution. Had this been outside of the wrestling world, I would not be talking about the figurative killing of a man, but the actual assassination of Tyler Norrie.