[The night is overcast; clouds obscure the moon, sinking the house of The Diamond Kid into utter darkness… except for a single pool of light filtering from the upstairs window. Upon closer inspection, the light can be seen coming from a lamp in The Diamond Kid’s study, where he is seated behind a desk, drinking a Guinness and tapping absently at a blank page with a pen. He can be heard muttering unprintable obscenities under his breath, until finally he begins to write, taking the occasional swig from the bottle of beer.]

They were fighting again. I could hear my father’s drunken shouting before I even walked through the gate, then my mother’s sobbing. Red-hot anger boiled up inside my stomach, and I ran the rest of the way, charging into the living room where my father loomed over the crumpled heap on the floor that was my mother. “Think you can stop me, boy?” he leered at me, stinking of beer and cigarettes. I didn’t say anything. Blinded by a kind of white haze, I threw a punch squarely at his jaw and felled him instantly. Mum stared up at me with red rimmed eyes, a livid bruise spreading across her cheek, just as my sister emerged, trembling, from upstairs. I knew it had to stop. I knew I had to get them away from him, and I already had a plan. Move them out of Texas altogether… find a nice little unit, start a new life… but all I could think of was the money. Where could we get that kind of cash?

[The Diamond Kid pauses in his furious scribbling to read over what he has written, brows knitting as the memories float on the surface of his mind. The hand that holds the pen shakes slightly, but after taking a deep breath, he continues]

I found the answer in wrestling. Starting small, I used my size and strength to quickly work my way through all opponents I came up against, catching the attention of talent scouts. They told me I had the potential to be in the big leagues, so I raced home to tell Mum… to find an ambulance parked out the front. With deep foreboding, I walked inside as a white uniformed ambulance officer looked up at me somberly. “This your father then?” he asked, gesturing to the figure two other ambo’s loaded. To say I felt a glimpse of remorse would be a lie. I didn’t feel a thing. I never really found out what happened to the man I once called my father, never really wanted to know, I always just thought he drunk himself to death. Mum and my sister were in a terrible state, they couldn’t handle everything that was going around them, they needed someway to get out, a backdoor so to speak. So they left, moved to the west of Texas to stay with relatives, and I, stayed behind, in the dark city of Washington, DC, a 17 year old boy, all by myself. I kept living in the house. And day by day, I would follow the same routine. Wake up, go to work as an apprentice down at the old warehouse, come home, and fall on a mattress, and just lie there, thinking about my life, or what was left of it. Every weekend, I would walk 4 miles to the local gym, where the cities only wrestling ring was located.

I would spend a couple of hours, taking my frustration out, on weak, dirty teenagers half my size. But whatever it was about wrestling, I enjoyed it. I got some, as some people would like to call it, some sort of sick pleasure, by making other men feel the pain, when their bony backs, slapped against the canvas upon impact. At night, I would wrestle in the weekly show, literally breaking the spines of any man, woman or beast who dared to step up against me. I’d bust my ass off, for 35 bucks. Near midnight, black eyed and all, I would walk, that lonely 4 miles back home, knowing in the morning, my life would become dull and miserable once more. And, It did, my life continued like this for weeks, if not months. Same routine, same rat infested house, same faulty wrestling ring, same measly 35 bucks. I hadn’t heard from my mother or sister for that matter, during this whole time. No doubt they wanted to leave their past behind them, and that included me. At first I didn’t feel disheartened in any kind, but as the nights began to get colder and the work beginning to get harder, I started to feel somewhat depressed, as I thought about my life. “Why was I still living here” or “What is my purpose in life”. But things began to pick up, work seemed to be more enjoyable, maybe it was because I wasn’t the clumsy apprentice anymore, I had become a full time worker, meaning a full time wage. The occasional wrestling at the old gym became fun too, as I begin to try different and more dazzling moves, soon, dozens of people would come every week to see me, David Turner. The crowds got larger, and I began to get more nervous, but I knew I had to step up to the plate. On that freezing, Washington, DC night, the The Diamond Kid was born. I was introduced to the crowd as “The Infamous” but even that mistake would not destroy the night for me. I was a house on fire, getting so many “Oohs” and “Ahhs” from the crowd, they loved me, and I love them back. But something more, much bigger, would come out of that night.

After the match, after I had pinned my foe to the mat, I was approached by a figure. I shall never forget the moment. I was sitting in the dressing room, putting some bandages over whatever cuts I had, and walking through the door with so much confidence, was a man, 7 feet high atleast. With his broad shoulder the size of mountains, for once, I was intimidated. “So you’re the fellla folks round here say has the stuff to make the big time ay” he said in an American accent. Too nervous to say anything, I just nodded, with an expression on my face I have never been able to impersonate since. So much blibbering and blabbering occurred, but near the end of the conversation he said to me “Young man, I have a proposition for you that could change your life. How would you feel about, coming over to New York with me, and teaching those young naïve yanks how to wrestle?” I was speechless. No superlatives would be able to describe the sheer relief I felt in my heart. With that, I shook his hand, and the next day, I was leaving my home, the place I thought I would be forever. I didn’t pick up the phone to call mum, nor did I visit the graveyard, I just packed my bags with what little items of clothing I had, grabbed a photo of myself as a child, having fun with the family. With that, I walked out the front door, and was on my way to the Land of Opportunity. I gave the keys to my neighbors, asked them to sell the house for me, and with whatever money they received, to send it over to mum, wherever she was. A cab picked me up, and drove me to the airport. There waiting for me was the man I had spoken to the earlier night. In the light, he didn’t look so intimidating. His face, looked old and weary. One glance at him and you would know he has had a hard life. We boarded the plain, and like that, I was out of Washinton, DC, flying through the clouds, on my way to a new life, on my way to glory. We touched down in some place called “A New York” A big statue greeted us into the city. No one in the place was very friendly, we lived in a place called “Long Ireland” or something like that, I thought it was fitting that I lived there, the namesake and all.

I began to train under a man, small fella he was, went by the name of DeNucci, no one ever knew his first name. He was tough, but all the trainees knew it would help us in the long run. We took bump after bump after bump, and had to like it, or else it was the punching bag for us. Now the punching bag wasn’t just a normal punching bag, you would punch and kick for hours. Your body will begin to ache, and you’d beg to just sit down, if you began to slack off, you’d get a kick to the stomach for your troubles from the closest person to you. For a few months this went on, and on May 10, my 18th birthday passed. It didn’t mean anything significant, and I didn’t do anything special for the occasion, I sat in my small unit and watched television. The show ALF would be my favorite, but anything at all was good. I began to wrestle competitively, winning hands down against most opponents, and still getting the usual “Oohs” and “Ahhs” from the crowd, they seemed to take a liking to my style wrestling. I was announced as the “The Diamodn Kid” for the first time that night, I don’t think half of them who I was anyways, but it didn’t bother me. After a year going from all the indy feds throughout the east coast of America, I began to get bored, and needed more cash. I had learnt everything I could from DeNucci and co, and unfortunately during that year, the man who brought me over to the New York passed away, again, I was all alone, but this time, in unfamiliar battlegrounds. So, it was the land of the rising sun. That’s where I would find more money and fame. I had a budget, and saved up whatever I could each week. Soon, I had accumulated enough money to get my ticket, and head over to Japan. The plane jetted off, and I was yet again moving countries. I touched down in Osaka, and didn’t waist any time in asserting myself. Within two days, I had a place to stay, food on my table, and a regular fed that I enjoyed. It was called the “OUW” Osaka United Wrestling, or that’s how I translated it into English. The language barrier was hard, I will admit that, but I looked past the small problems, like eating raw fish, and not being able to watch normal television, but I was enjoying myself in the ring, and getting paid good money too. It seemed as if, the people in Japan appreciated what the wrestlers did. They knew that what we were doing out in the squared canvas was tough stuff, and that we were doing our all, week in, week out, to give them their moneys worth. The legions of fans that jumped aboard The Diamond Kid bandwagon would chant my name at every show, “AYE-AH-EAH! AYE-AH-EAH!” Soon enough, I was the main attraction, my face on billboards across the city. “AYE-AH-EAH” t-shirts and memorabilia were being sold, and all were swamping me. The life I had here was somewhat of a major contrast to the one I was living in the Republic, and I was enjoying every minute of it. Soon though, I realized I had done all I could do in Japan. After defeating every foe there was to defeat, my life was turning into one, I had vowed never to let happen. Booze and girls were on my mind, and I began wasting my money.

[The Diamond Kid lifts his pen from the paper, as he stares at the pages before him. With a scratch of his head, and a drink of his beer, he puts pen back down and begins to write once more.]

I said farewell to my fans, packed up my gear, and was on my way yet again. This time however, I felt a stinging sensation in my heart. The fans saw me to the airport, all-continuing to chant my name. The lady who cut off the stub of my ticket even had a tear in her eyes. At this stage I was only a modest 20 year old, but people were acting as if they had known me their whole lives. I remember walking down the corridor to the plane wondering if I was making a mistake or not. I remember stopping and looking back, even thinking about aborting the whole plan, and just returning to my apartment in the city. But I knew what I had to do. I took one last faithful step into the plane, and sat down. For the first time, I was flying first class, a luxury I was not accustomed too. The plane screeched as it began to fly. I was looking back at the hills and the buildings, as tears began to fill my eyes. I stayed strong though, I was making the right decision. “No regrets, No regrets” were the words I uttered under my breathe. I sipped on a glass of coke wondering what the future has in store for me, whether its women, money and championship belts, or dirty mattresses, no food and no car. Whatever it was, I would know soon enough.

“Mr. Diamond Kid! Mr. Diamond Kid” I woke up, with the face of a Japanese girl in front of me. She had been frantically trying to wake me up, as the plane had landed in the United States. “We have arrived in Los Angeles, your final destination I believe Mr. Diamond Kid.” I rubbed my eyes, making sure the water that was previously in them had dried up on the flight. I picked up my bags, as my eyes got used to the lighting in the plane. It took a few steps before I had full feeling in my toes once again, and from there, I took my first steps toward stardom. Back in the U.S, I was a nobody, just like the other 300 million or so. I walked around the streets, no billboards with my face on them, no t-shirts or memorabilia. I had to adjust to the new changes, but I knew things would be okay. I met up with wrestling promoters in the area, looking for a job, and for a few weeks I wrestled yet again in small Indy Feds in front of crowds of 100, maybe more. Just like years before, in Washington, after the show, I met up with a man who went by the name of Chuckles, another Texan fella living in New York. Apparently he knew my dad somehow, but I didn’t really listen much when it came to that part of the conversation. After a while, he told me he was running a federation called the IUWF, and that he wanted me to join. I needed the money, so I accepted. When I turned up for my first few days in IUWF, I was shocked by the size of the federation; I never thought I would be in a big federation so soon back in America. Well, I found the competition was a lot harder, but nothing I couldn’t handle, I was a big boy now, 21, living in California. One by one, I defeated all that was in my way. I became friendly with a guy named Sidian, who took me under his wing. He taught me a lot, even when I thought I knew everything about wrestling, he always seemed to know that little bit extra. Soon though, he left to pursue bigger and better things. The story of my life really, becoming friendly with someone or something, and they just leave, never to be seen again. Well, I continued to wrestle in the IUWF, having memorable feuds with guys like Kidd and The Wild Dog, some of my man rivals. I went on to win the biggest thing in the federation, the Heavyweight Championship, and I was still only 21. I had shed a lot of blood to get to where I was, but it was worth it. The feeling that I had when I held that title was unparallel to anything I have ever felt before in my life, I knew I had made the right choice by coming back to America. Time passed, and financially, the IUWF wasn’t doing too well, which meant I wasn’t either, so I decided to go to where the money was. I left IUWF and World Title glory, to join UCW, where I had a brief stay. While there, I had a great match against a man called Masta Disasta, one of my many enemies. He and I battled until one man dropped, fortunately, I was strong enough to stand tall, and by doing so, earned my second wrestling title, this time, I was the United States Champ.

After leaving UCW, I needed a new hunting ground, and a place called the VCW came calling. It was run by a couple of guys namely, Osvaldo, Preston, Maniac, they all seemed like good guys. They knew about my past, and my in ring experience, and were willing to give me a go. I had no idea that the impact I was going to have on the VCW would be of such magnitude.

[The Diamond Kid brushes his hair back, as he stretches, thrusting his arms behind his neck, as he begins to yawn.]

I joined the VCW. To them, meaning, to the rest of the roster, I was already a veteran. Maybe I was, but I proved to a lot of them, I wasn’t a push over. I fought tooth and nail to earn victories in the VCW, and soon, people began to sit up and recognize I had talent. Soon enough, I earned my first platnium championship, by defeating Nuissance. The crowd began to take me when I won that platnium championship. That title meant more than me being the next world champ. It meant a lot more than that, it meant that I wasn’t some has-been, I was a big boy, and I knew it. I began to come to the ring, more confident than ever, now 40, I was stealing the show. Soon, a guy EZ Money joined, who would somewhat steal my light, but we would become best of friends, my first real friend since leaving the streets of Texas.

The Diamond Kid: Hahaha…And so that has been, my life up til now. I have had many ups and downs, just like a rollercoaster. And this week, will be yet another chapter in the life of I, the T…D…f*cking K! This week, I must battle my friend, in EZ Money. EZ, strong words between us latley, just know that I don’t have anything against you. But our match will just be business as per usual. I cannot control my temper when I step inside the wrestling ring, so I say sorry now, for whatever actions I may use this Sunday. If you do not want to be injured, do not show up for our match, but if you do show, I will show no mercy. The VCW will soon fall to the hands of TDK, its only a matter of when…and how! EZ, there has been alot of talk and I am working on my book right now, its coming and I beat BG and now it's EZ turn, I'm olf but not finsihed, your finished some Sunday, I'm sorry but I'm putting you in retirement, blinfold or not, title or not, I don't care about a win or lose, I care about ending your career so I have no competition for the World Title then Minion us next.

[The scene fades as The Diamond Kid walks out of his study.]