¤ Sometimes real life hits you in the face so hard it knocks you clear across the room, into a mahogany bookshelf, and flat on your ass, and you're covered in a complete set of Encyclopedia Britannicas, index included. Thats when you realize its time to back up, get the hell out of dodge and get your shit together before you completely lose control. ¤

Its 12 am and the breakers hitting the beach thunder loudly, drowning out the lessening crowd of horny young people who are scattered here and there on the beach. The condo belonging to the evil redneck looms in the lights of the distant hotels, sitting alone, unsuspecting of the world. Ichabod sits in the Monster, unable to really get out and walk around, unable to really enjoy the waves, unable to really think. He just sits there watching the black water roll up to the front of the truck. Suddenly he cuts a circle out of the black night with a lighter and puffs on a cigarette. The Newport burns its poison into his lungs as he slowly inhales, and then exhales, filling the cab with smoke as dense as the gathering confusion in his brain.

Who's to say what is fair really? Life? Certainly not. What kind of life is fair when one man rises to victory, his equal falling to despair. When two brothers are born, one as evil as sin itself, the other righteous and good. What kind of life is fair when you are riding straight down that fast lane, speeding along in your brand new Shelby 500 GT, only to realize that the road is a tightrope and you are driving left of the middle, with the 18 wheelers bearing down on you in the oncoming?

You call that shit fair? I call it bullshit. That is what life is really, one massive heap of bullshit. you wallow around in it, pretending to be happy while you hold what may or may not be really yours with fingers that may let go at any moment, ignoring your brains command to hold on for dear life.

You basically have two choices when you really figure out how life is. You can either watch it fall apart slowly at first, and then gradually increasing speed until finally its travelling at sucha breakneck speed that there is no stopping it anymore, and its taking everything and everyone with it. Or you can do like my brother would and just blow it all up before it has the chance to fuck you over. I chose the low road and let it all collapse on top of me. Now I am looking up at this huge hole in my life, looking up into what was hell, and I wonder, what have i fallen into now?

Ichabod cracks the window and smoke seeps out thick as a blanket. Through the blanket comes the used up butt. It hits the ground, used up and forgotten like some rape victim, consumed and left to fizzle out with its panties turned inside out. Ichabod watches the smoke continue to seep out as he leans back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a remote.

Well, the one thing I learned from all of this bullshit that's happened lately is that no matter how far down you go, no matter how far you fall, no matter how much it hurts, you can always fall farther, sink deeper and hurt worse.

Ichabod fires up the monster and revs the engine.

Well I am getting out of here before that happens. Fuck this life and all that it entails. I'm sick and fucking tired of putting up with the shit. Its not the wrestling world, its everything, its nothing. Its emptiness, that I can't handle anymore. So I'm taking a page out of Reverend's book, I'm blowing it all away. If I come back, fine, but don't count on it. Until I figure out what the hell I'm suppose to be doing here, I'm not staying. Something waits for me out there, something that has left a big hole in my life, making me unsatisfied. Until I find it, you might as well forget about me, because I don't even exist anymore...

Ichabod tears the gear into reverse, jams the clutch in and grinds first, throwing sand all over the neighboring condo and shattering a few windows with gravel. Before he gets to far he presses the button on the remote. The cars and buildings around implode as the famous Ichabod condo goes up in a bright red, yellow, and orange mushroom in his rearview. But he doesn't see it, he is only focused on the road ahead and darkness that lies in his future. . .