Lady Laura
THE BUTCHER

Now I'm in business. This is what I've been waiting for. A title shot. Just the fourth match my young, young career and I get to have a chance at the Intercontinental Title. Life is good! Especially mine--ha! Well, take away the accident and it's all good that is, after all, accidents aren't too much fun- especially when you become deformed for life. But I've gotten over and learned to live with myself and now it's time The Golden One to have those same feelings with the only difference being he lost to a rookie in such a big-time match in his career instead of having his body and voice become wasted. This is just too cool for me! Who's going to be the first from my high school class to make it big? ME!! Yea! That's what I'm talking about. Still, that being said I must calm down and get my head in the game or else it's going to be the local landfill for me. I just need to go around the block here and get some fresh air so I can get my thoughts together about this match. So once again into the depths of summer and 80-degree weather out I go in my black jeans and gray sweatshirt and my ski-mask. Yeah, here come the funny looks from the neighbors again. Can't they learn to live with me the way I am? People these days, so uncaring. What's this, a neighbor approaching? What does HE want? Not really in such hot shape, could probably use some diet pills or something.

Neighbor: Hey there Butcher.

Okay, at least he knows who I am.

Neighbor: How are you today? Pretty cool to see you get to face The Golden One Wednesday for such a prize. Wow, you're pretty lucky.

Don't know if I'd say luck as much as I'm better than who I've faced so far. What's he doing now? Staring deep into my eyes?? What's with this?

Neighbor: You know---I've been pretty good at reading into people's eyes and getting their emotions and that from them. I swear I've seen you before, even if it IS just from your eyes I get that impression.

Dude, whatever. This man's nuts.

Neighbor: Yeah---yeah, I've seen you before. I know who you are! You're----

And that's enough of that. I put my hand over his mouth and shake my head "No" at him. Like a good person he understands to be quiet. Good, I'll let him go. I'm going back inside, this heat is crazy. Parking myself on my sofa, I need to look at just what it is I'm going up against here this week.

THE GOLDEN ONE

A big match with a big name. But just how big a name is The Golden One now? Maybe this is just me, but I don't think he's really deserving of being in such a high position. Let's look at who he beat: A guy too distracted with the World Title and rather obsessed with his commercials. If that wasn't bad enough, all Goldie Boy does himself is bitch about not being able to wrestle for that same belt. WHO CARES?? I don't! I just want to get in the ring with someone who actually has his head set on this match, not on something that happened three weeks ago. Sure, Golden One is saying he is taking this match seriously but I know his head is elsewhere. He's constantly referring to that match with Draven still--does he get some sort of "kick" when bringing that up? Whatever. And his talking about how this IC belt is the one he REALLY wants? I don't get that. For a newbie like me sure, this is awesome. It's not like I'm going to get handed the World Title right away so if I get a shot at this one, great! I'll just move up to the World Title in due time. But for a guy here like Golden Boy, this isn't really his game. He sounds like a loser being put in with something he doesn't want not even remotely so he makes distracting comments like, "'This is what I want, not anything else.'" HUH? What? Really, come on now. You gotta be shittin' me. A guy like him happy to get a belt like this? Is there a brain deficiency going on there? Was there an alien landing and a probing of Goldie Boy here that didn't make the National Enquirer? With his words he's making it seem like he knows his career is going down the drain faster than a case of diarrhea and he's at the point that, like me, he'll take what he can get. Not that I won't disagree with him there. After all, he's losing his stuff. Granted he's the favorite in this match and that's okay with me but can he get this done without doing the ever so dreaded CHOKE? I think no, and I already can see his fan mail coming in:

Dear Golden One,

And people thought the way I choked was bad! You're taking it to a whole new level. I need to know though, where did you get YOUR ham sandwich from?

Sincerely,

Mama Cass

and

Dear Golden One,

So you screwed up big time during a chance for a championship, so what? It's not like the fans will actually remember this boneheaded act of yours for the rest of your life. After all, my life hasn't changed-----much.

Sincerely,

Bill Buckner

What's really depressing is that that stuff is just the beginning of Golden's problems. I mean the possibility of the world's largest CHOKE is one thing, but the way the poor guy's matches are, that's another story in itself. Watching this guy in the ring is reminiscent of watching Night of the Living Dead. The guy lumbers around the ring zombie-like and falls like a weightless California Redwood. The crowd too realizes this and that's why I wonder when watching one of his matches if I'm watching wrestling or the 13th hole at The Masters. Again, I'm not thinking he's a total pile of crap because that's just not true, but he is getting there rather quickly. If he really thinks he can beat me, boy is he ever in the wrong place then. In fact if that's really what he thinks then HE'S A DORK!! He probably still brings his glove to a baseball game too. Does he really think he's going to play in the game? Does he really think he's going to be asked by the team players to go in and play at shortstop? That sort of thinking can be paralleled to facing me Wednesday. Does he really think he can do what he wants with me? Does he really think he can go and play his game without any flaws? I realize I'm being tough on the guy as he IS a sort of legend but that's the only way I really can make my mark. By going in and showing Golden One up and showing the world that The Butcher really DOES belong here, that's how I can gain respect. Of course, that legend thought of mine, that gets me thinking more. A LEGEND would be fighting for the World's Title. A LEGEND would not even be worried about facing a guy like me just yet. A LEGEND would still be feared by everyone and everything. The Golden One a LEGEND? I don't think so! POUND, POUND, POUND! What's this? Someone's at the door, huh? Let him stand there. I'm not getting up.

Person: Hello? HELLO!? Ah, why am I even shouting looking for an answer? Guy can't talk. Forget it, I'll just come back later. The hell with this.

He's leaving--that's a shame. Although one has to wonder if I chose to talk what I'd say. ESPECIALLY to Golden Boy. He could come up to me and blatantly query to me, "Man, how do I beat you?" and I could give him the short but only true answer of "ASK GOD!" That's the only way one can get the ways to beat me. God is the only universal being that knows what I can do and what I'm about. Soon though, Golden Boy there will be the second. Of course he'll have to learn the hard way but I'm cool with that. Golden Boy will just be in the ring, standing there with the game going right in front of him and STILL not knowing who's on base or what the score is, like always, when I'll unleash terror and a world of movement on him like he's never seen before. In fact, Golden Boy will be rather like my substitute teacher one day when I was in the 3rd grade. That was good stuff. Tormenting and riducling the poor guy that eventually he started crying! Ha, and the best part is he took off not just before lunch, BUT BEFORE THE END OF THE FIRST HOUR OF THE DAY! The rest of the day we had the teacher from the room next door periodically checking in on us. Even funnier, the principal didn't even know the sub left! That looks to be the scoop for this match up. A legend losing it, breaking into tears, and leaving the company without Gates's knowledge all within the first couple minutes of facing me. Okay, so maybe not QUITE like that, but it'll get awfully darn close to that kind of situation. For sure any dignity Golden Boy has established will flutter out the window like a mile-high stack of papers in the middle of Chicago. I don't feel that I'll be sending him to Hell but I sure won't be sending him to Disneyland! If it's a wipe-away match that Golden One wants; if it's a three-second squash job he expects; if it's an Intercontinental Title victory he thinks he's getting; then he's just in the wrong place. There's a saying out there that whenever you say something about something good, it stops, and if you say something about something bad, it happens. I keep my mouth shut 90% because I can't talk without help but the other 10% is because I'm not about to jinx myself by saying "I'm going to win." Golden Boy can go ahead and say he'll win, but if that old saying comes back and gets him where it counts, the loss column. Let him have his talks, let him say what he wants to say. If he says he's good enough to win then sooner or later he's going to believe it, right? Fine. Won't he be in for a surprise when he sees who raises that Intercontinental Title after our match? My thoughts are in order and I know what I'm going to and that's kick mucho ass. His playbook is probably like that of an expansion team: empty desperately needing to be filled and we're just moments away from game time. It's really just a matter of the C-H-O-K-E. If he can't avoid the CHOKE then that's just his loss. My gain!