Ichabod wanders along the outside area that surrounds the Sunlight Home. The air is dark, damp, but more with a sort of languid humidity than with rain or any other impending weather. Ichabod glances around and all he can see is boys... boys everywhere. The boys not lucky enough to be on Reverend Brimstone's Outside Staff--and that was most of them--spend their days in what the long-timers call Far Field. It is about a mile and a half down the road at the edge of Brimstone's property, and Ichabod had marched double time through woods and fields with his weights before coming upon it. There, the boys spend their days picking rocks. There is no other field work to be done there, the field had dried up and discharghed its last crop nearly three years ago, and that had been harvested in Mid-October of that year. But, as Brother Peter had been known to say in his morning Chapel Devotions, rocks are always plentiful and in season. Normally, the boys didn't work after Night Chapel, but these boys were on punishment.
The previous month had been a rainy one in this part of the US, and Far Field is a gluey, sticky, muddy mess. Ichabod eventually comes to call it the "Bootsucking Field." At the end of the field is a fence, and there's barbed wire across the top of it of course. As he walks slowly across the Bootsucker, the boys watch him carefully but take care to look away quickly when he gives them a cursory glance. The boys soon learn to listen instead, as the man speaks of what they are taught is one of the true evils in the world, Professional Entertainment... especially in the form of wrestling. Even more curious to the boys is the fact that Ichabod is being followed by some of the Reverend's video team. They wonder how Ichabod managed to get them to follow him all the way out here for the jog... but then saw one of the flatbed trucks that transported the boys back and forth from Far Field to the house sitting beside the road. Ichabod didn't like leaving the worried Stasia in the building alone, but it was so damned cold in there. His head was filling with thoughts he didn't need, and he decided to get out into the air for his promo.
Shane Mac. Boy you are on a long ass road of faith that will lead you only God knows where. But you've got it better than some. I can see it now, you have it. The pain I talk of, the fire that burns inside. I can smell it even through a screen where I watch you speak. You want this more than any man could ever want anything. I commend you on that note, and I extend my hand in respect and friendship to you because you deserve it. I know you are gearing up for the most important battle of your life and that you want to prove yourself to me. But ya know, you are right, talk is cheap, so I want this just as badly as you, so that I can have physical proof that you are every bit as ready to run in my league as you say you are.
You see Shane, you are only beginning to grasp what I say when I talk of wanting something so badly. It has begun to eat at you, and it has matured you. But I on the other hand have had this want in me for some time now. I have learned to cope with it, I have learned the distances I must go in order to achieve what I want. I have learned the measures I am truly capable of taking when the situation calls for it. My methods are tested and true and I now wield a power so strong that I am nearly unstoppable.
But Shane, this knowledge and power only comes with a great time of learning and trials. You have yet to experience the things I have in this world. Your eyes, still virgin to ideals and concepts I hold dear, have a great deal of suffering to go through. Welcome to my world Shane, in it you will find nothing but horror, loss, pain... but ultimately victory. Remember, however, that your journey only begins with me... you have a lot further to go before you can wield the power I can against your inner demons... demons that will manifest themselves in many forms... Powerful enemies, old heros, conquests never finished but never forgotten. Right now you face a demon more powerful than you can imagine... a figure from your past that you could emulate, respect, but never overcome.
It is true that you are ready to face it, but you are far from being able to take it. Shane, you may be broken into thousands of pieces by the end of the fight... scratch that, you will be broken by me... But you must crawl before you walk, limp before you run. Success is only the product of much failure and pain. This is our first encounter with one another in this ring at WXW... it will take many more for you to put up the fight necessary to put me anywhere close to failure.
All this I say because this road you are on now I've walked, turned around, walked again... over and over until I was sure that I was where I wanted to be. But Shane, though this Saturday marks a rather huge loss in your record, don't let it be your downfall. You have talked the talk, but walking the walk will require much more than just standing up to me this weekend. It will require getting up after Galahad and I destroy you and your afflicted partner, and continuing to step up to the challenge every time, no matter how many times I beat you. And I will beat you, because all though the road to hell is paved in good intentions, the road to glory is marked by failure.
So come to the ring expecting to win, prepared to lose, and geared up to give me a damn good fight, for the only choice you have right now is losing and dying out of my sight, or losing and standing up to shake my hand, ready and willing to fight me another day. Make the right choice Shane, and don't be a fool.
Ichabod takes a deep breath and exhales against the warm night. A horn honks, and its another flatbed truck with four or five others behind it, each carrying a two man crew of teenaged boys in white turtleneck sweaters. The boys have finished their punishment, but Shane's punishment for thinking his quest is at an end has yet to begin. Ichabod turns to jog back to the Home, and the camera crew begins loading their things back onto the truck.
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