Post by Dandy DiVito on Feb 28, 2021 23:39:43 GMT -5
A sight for sore eyes
To the blind would be awful majestic
It would be the most beautiful thing
That they ever had seen
To the blind would be awful majestic
It would be the most beautiful thing
That they ever had seen
“E’rythin’ good in there?”
A voice from inside lets out a sigh and then a rebuke.
“Dandy, man, can I just shit in private?”
Dandy smirks and shakes his head.
“Sorry, Wes. Doc said we gotta keep an eye on ya!”
“I’m not a fall risk, Dandy! Just let me shit! Please!”
Dandy laughs loudly enough for Wesley to hear him through the door.
“Goddamn it, Dandy. Are you just fucking with me?”
Dandy starts laughing his ass off.
“Go wait in my room, goddamn it! I’ll be right there. Let me shit in peace!”
Dandy smiles as he slaps the door with an open palm and makes his way down the hall to wait in Wesley’s room. As Dandy enters the room, he takes a seat on the foot of Wesley’s bed and then throws himself back across it. As Dandy laid there staring at nothing in particular, thinking about the Battlebowl match that was swiftly approaching, he heard the bathroom door open up and the click-clack of Wesley’s crutch as he made his way down the hall. Dandy shot out of Wesley’s room the moment he heard the sudden sounds of the crutch falling to the floor and Wesley calling out in distress. A wave of anxiety crashed over Dandy as he stepped into the hallway expecting to see Wesley on the ground in pain, but as he broke the plain of the door, he found Wesley leaning against the wall laughing to himself.
“Gotcha.”
“Goddamn it, Wes. I thought you was hurt or some shit.”
“Get my crutch, will ya?”
Dandy approaches and bends to retrieve Wesley’s crutch all while shaking his head.
“I ain’t pickin’ this shit up next time you throw it down to fuck wit’ me.”
Wesley smiles a big proud smile.
“Yes, you will, you liar.”
Dandy chuckles.
“Yeah. You prolly right.”
Dandy hands the crutch back to Wesley and the pair head back to Wesley’s room to chat.
When they get back to Weslye’s room, Wesley props himself comfortably up on the edge of his bed. Dandy stands holding a rolled up mat in his hands and looking at Wesley confused.
“So what’s this shit all about, man?”
“What shit?”
“This yoga an’ medication shit. I don’t get it. Why you wan’ me ta do it?”
“Meditation, Dandy. Not medication. Unroll the mat there on the floor. Sit. Let’s talk.”
Dandy does as instructed, but oozing out of him is the impression that he’s only following along with it because he so thoroughly trusts Wesley.
“Ok, so now what?”
Wesley shoots Dandy a comforting smile.
“You’re a ball of nerves today, Dandy.”
“Whatchu mean?”
“You’re a live wire. You’re almost...frantic. Are you having doubts about Battlebowl?”
“Nah, man. I’m cool as the other fuckin’ side a’ tha pillow, Wes. Ain’t no nerves in me, brother.”
“Dandy… come on. I know you better than that. I see what I see, and you’re not going to be able to convince me my eyes are lying.”
Dandy smirks.
“Ok. Fine. I’m a bit fuckin’ anxious, I guess. Been a while since I had to go out on my fuckin’ own and do shit. I’m jus’ too in my own fuckin’ head, I think.”
“Come on, DandyDaddy. That’s fucking crazy. Look, man...I can’t help you with much these days, but anxiety? Those pre-match jitters? Those doubts? Those are things I can help make go away.”
“How?”
“We’ve got to get your mind right before you can let go of the anxiety and let your body be the weapon that we both know it can be, Dandy, man.”
“I’m listenin’.”
Wesley smiles and nods.
“Alright. Let’s start with, uh, well, this…"
Wesley gingerly reaches out and hands Dandy an unmarked tab.
“...and a simple meditation, ok?”
Dandy’s eyebrows furrow in skepticism.
“You gotta trust me here, ok?”
“Ok, man. Ok. I trust you, Wes.”
“Put that under your tongue and then just cross your legs up tight to your body and breathe like this…”
Wesley closes his eyes and takes as deep and intentional a breath as he is capable of given his injuries before slowly releasing that breath as his eyes open again.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Dandy awkwardly slips the tab under his tongue and gathers himself up before pulling his legs into a crossed up pretzel.
“Yeah?”
Wesley nods.
“Yup.”
Dandy closes his eyes and lets the relaxation wash over him as he slowly breathes deeply in and out. Wesley whispers further directions as Dandy’s body washes over with calm.
“Now repeat after me… I’m here… This is my moment… I belong…”
Dandy tries in earnest to abide by his friend’s directions as he breathes slowly between each affirmation.
“I’m here…
This is my moment…
I belong…”
It would cause such surprise
It would make all of their minds electric
How could anyone tell them
That some things are not what they seem?
It would make all of their minds electric
How could anyone tell them
That some things are not what they seem?
Dandy almost hypnotically drifts off into a distant part of his mind. Suddenly, Dandy finds himself embroiled in the scenes of his past. Before him stands the hulking monster Corey Bull. Almost as quickly as Dandy sees Bull before him, Dandy finds himself laid out on his back and the referee counting a pinfall for Bull.
“Man, what the fuck?! How’d I get here?! WES! WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!”
Wesley was nowhere to be found. It was just just Dandy and Corey Bull. A flashback to the first loss of the Action Wrestling career of Dandy DiVito.
“Is this fuckin’ real?! Jesus, FUCK! How’d I ever lose to Bull?!”
A voice pipes in. It’s one familiar to Dandy but one he’d never heard ring through so obviously as to converse with it. Loudly ringing in his head, that voice - instinct, intuition, whatever you’d call it - begins to narrate Dandy’s renewed encounters with his past.
“You couldn’t even beat Corey Bull when you were the United States Champion! What makes you think you’ll win at Battlefield?!”
Dandy looks up to make eye contact with the referee who has now frozen in time while his hand falls toward the mat for the three count against Bull. Everything except Dandy himself is frozen in place.
“I was young then. Still a fuckin’ rook! Bull had years on me, a whole fuckin’ career of in-ring shit before I came along greener than goose shit. Sure that motherfucker stole one from me when they wasn’t shit on the line, but I won the fuckin’ match that mattered and left that shit behind still carryin’ my United States Title!”
The voice scoffs.
“You’ve been an impostor the entire time you’ve been in Action Wrestling, Dandy!”
Dandy moves to push the frozen Corey Bull off of himself and everything in the setting vanishes into dust. Dandy finds himself alone in the pitch blackness of nowhere and everywhere all the same.
“Ash Blake hit the nail on the head, you know? You’re not who you wish you were! You’re not who you tell the world you are! You’re a little rich boy who thought daddy’s money could buy him any and everything in the world, but you’re finding now that you’re all smoke and mirrors! A FRAUD!”
Dandy recoils as the voice grows more and more angry and disgusted.
“I’m no fucking fraud, goddamnit!”
“What about this?!”
The blackness fades into the arena for Revolution II where Sam Kidsgrove became a two-time United States Champion. Dandy snarls at the memory of the first night he lost an Action Wrestling championship belt.
“Is you gon’ march me through every fuckin’ loss of my career here?!”
The voice sounds perversely entertained by Dandy’s frustration.
“How would that make you feel? It really is kind of the plan after all.”
Dandy watches, this time from the third person, as Kidsgrove charges the corner and hits past-Dandy with a huge Box Office Smash before securing the pin. The ref counts one, two, and then once more, freezes in place.
“You have always wanted to be more than you’re capable of being, Dandy, but at the end of it all, you’re nothing special. You’re just a punching bag that knows how to talk! Bull proved it. Kidsgrove proved it. You’re a fluke. Your aura is an illusion! You’re an impostor!”
Dandy’s frustration grows further.
“Sam is a future Hall of Famer! He could only beat me once! Why the fuck you ain’t showin’ me the other 38 times we faced and I beat his ass, huh?! You’re just fuckin’ wit’ me here, ain’t ya? Who the fuck are you anyway?!”
Present-Dandy looks at the frozen scene and realizes the past version of himself who is flat on his back, pinned under Kidsgrove is speaking.
“I’m you, Dandy. Haven’t you put the pieces together yet?”
“What the fuck?!”
The scene fades back to black. The past-Dandy disappears while the voice remains.
“I’ve been here as long as you have, Dandy. I’m the one who reminds you of your limits and tells you the unpleasant truths no one else will admit. I’m that doubt in the back of your mind. I’m your reality check.”
Dandy rolls his eyes.
“Oh, yeah, man? Show me another of my greatest hits. How am I a piece of shit this time?”
The scene fades into Yazmin’s living room.
“Ohhhhhh, nice. Goin’ fo’ the good ol’ low blow!”
Yaz walks into the living room from the kitchen and Dandy’s jaw drops.
“She’s...she’s...pregnant… Is she?”
The voice laughs.
“Ha! Dandy, I’m you. How would I know if you don’t? That said...it’s been about, what? 6 months since you two, uh, well, you know, right?”
Dandy deflates as he handles his gut reaction to the scenario. He shakes his head rejecting the doubts.
“No. No way. She would have called if that happened. There’s no way.”
“You poked her. I was there. There’s DEFINITELY a way, and here you are doing whatever you’re doing with Kemp and the rest of your cult all while your potential little baby grows and maybe even grows up without a daddy so you can continue to masquerade as Mr. Tag Team Wrestling. Hmm… sounds like the kind of thing a piece of shit would do, doesn’t it?!”
“I don’t even know if she’s pregnant!”
“But she could be, damnit! And you haven’t bothered to find out one way or the other! That’s who you are though, right? You get stuck...you find yourself in any measure of trouble and you cut and run, right? You’re fucking yellow, Dandy! YOU’RE A GODDAMN COWARD!”
Wesley’s voice breaks through the fogginess of Dandy’s hallucination.
“Dandy, man. You ok? Dandy!”
The hallucination takes a strong grip on Dandy’s mind again though, and Wesley’s voice is replaced by that of his self-doubt.
“Did you think you’d get rid of me that easily, Dandy?!”
“Man, just leave me be! I got shit ta do mo’fucka!”
“I can’t leave you, Dandy. I AM YOU! We’ve established this! As long as you exist, as long as you find yourself failing into opportunities that are beyond you, I’ll be here screaming loud and clear in your head!”
Dandy shook his head as if an epiphany had taken hold.
“What’s that smug look about?”
“I figured you out. Wesley was right. I had to get my head right, and now that I’m here fuckin’ conversin’ wit’ this shit, I see through it. You gon’ sit here an’ tell me that I’m defined by the hiccups of my past. That the one time I lost to Bull or Kidsgrove or Howie or Shaw or the fact that Spencer Adams is a longer haul tag champ wit’ MY FUCKIN’ PARTNER means more than every damn time I beat all they asses or became the fuckin’ champ or put the shoulders of a literal Hall of Famer to the mat… Well, you gon’ have ta excuse me, Dandy, but that’s some shit, and I see through all of it now.”
“NO! YOU’RE WORTHLESS! YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING ON YOUR OWN ANYMORE! YOU’RE…”
“Wit’ all due respec’ - which by the fuckin’ way, is exactly fuckin’ zero respec’ - get fucked. That self-doubting Dandy? You ain’t got no home here no more mo’fucka.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
The scene fades back to Wesley’s room at the Following compound. Wesley is awkwardly crouched over Dandy’s body as Dandy regains consciousness.
“Dandy? Oh that god. You ok, man? I thought I fucking killed you. You’ve been in and out for a few hours now and then it was just like the lights went out and no one was home. Never seen anything like it.”
Dandy shakes off some cobwebs and looks up to meet his friend’s gaze.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like that either, but after that, I’m not just ok... I’m way fuckin’ better than ok.”
Wesley smiles and pats Dandy on the shoulder with his good arm.
“I see it all clear as glass now. I’m not fucking defined by my stumbles. No matter what happens, I’m still Dandy fucking DiVito, I’m still going to be the first ever Grand Slam champion this company has ever seen, and I’m still going to have my name etched in the stone records of our history books.”
Wesley’s smile continues to beam as he struggles to stand up and return to his bed.
“Good, man. I’m glad I could help. It’s a little ironic though, I guess…”
“What is?”
“All the shit Philador got for using hallucinogens to get their boys’ minds right, and without even thinking about it, that’s, uh, well, you know, what just happened here.”
Dandy smirked and laughed a bit.
“Look, Wes, I don’t want to let you down or nothin’, but this ain’t my first fuckin’ magic rodeo, son.”
Dandy hops up to help Wesley back to the bed as the pair share a laugh.
Oh this must be a dream
If I forget to set the alarm
And sleep on through the dawn
Don't remind me
If I forget to set the alarm
And sleep on through the dawn
Don't remind me
This the part e’rybody always waitin’ for, right? The part when Dandy tears mo’fuckas apart an’ entertains the fuckin’ masses buildin’ up his shit, yeah? Well, that ain’t today. Nah. I’ma save all my tearin’ an’ wreckin’ for the fuckin’ ring. Today? I’ma lay my fuckin’ cards on the table and tell the world that this match is about two fuckin’ things and two things only. It’s about Dandy DiVito’s past and it’s about Dandy DiVito’s future.
I’ma enter the ring wit’ seven other mo’fuckas come Battlebowl, and for five of ‘em, they mark those parts of my past that can weasel in an’ fuck my head all up. The devastatin’ losses, the set backs, the derailed momentum. All a’ it. The other two? They my future, my fuckin’ brothers. Those two are the fuckin’ reason I stand where I stand today, ready to go to fuckin’ war. Kyle Kemp breathed new fuckin’ life into my career. CJ Phoenix has shown me how good it feels to be a fuckin’ mentor. The Followin’ is changin’ me e’ry damn day. They makin’ me a better man, helpin’ me cure the illness that is self-doubt and feelin’ like I don’t belong. I ain’t enterin’ this match to hurt my brothers, but it’s important to know that we all get better when we pushed and challenged, especially by mo’fuckas we know got our best at heart. The world’s gonna wan’ us to tear each other down and shred the fuckin’ family, but why the fuck would we do that? Who would benefit if The Followin’ fell apart right now? Philador, right? An’ look, we ain’t about doin’ business in any fuckin’ way that serves to advance the interests of Philador fuckin’ Holdin’s. So forgive me if I don’t give the li’l ideas of li’l minded fuckers the time of fuckin’ day.
Bull, Kidsgrove, Spencer, Howie, and Shaw all mark regrets of my past, but for the most part, they also mark even more fuckin’ important fuckin’ successes. I ain’t gon’ be the mo’fucka who spends his time lamenting his fuckin’ tragedies at the expense of celebratin’ his fuckin’ triumphs. Come Battlebowl, it ain’t a situation where it’s e’ryman fo’ he’self. Nope. At Battlebowl, it’s gon’ be a one-on-one-on-one-on-one-on-one-on-three, ‘cause the Followin’ is gon’ be a united fuckin’ front. Period. Ain’t no man gon’ tear down what we spent months buildin’ up.
An’ look, I don’t think it’s fuckin’ conceited or fuckin’ arrogant fo’ me to look at this match as The Followin’s next moment to shine. We got a huge stage here. Possibly the most star studded match that’s eva happened in Action Wrestlin’ that wasn’t a fuckin’ Havoc Rumble. But the story goin’ in’s the same story as y’all’s gon’ see comin’ out: ‘What will The Following do in Battlebowl, and how will the rest of the field overcome their strategic advantage?’ I’ll admit that if I didn’t know what I know, I’d be wonderin’ too. But I’m lookin’ at this shit from the insider’s perspective, and what I know is that come the Havoc Rumble, The Followin’ is gon’ have somebody enterin’ last. Our fuckin’ goal as a unit is gon’ be to dominate that mo’fucka, an’ comin’ in wit’ that final entrant spot is the magic bullet.
This match brings my past together with my future. This match is also gon’ show the fuckin’ world what the future of Action Wrestlin’s lookin’ like, too, and I’ll give y’all a spoiler alert: the future has it’s hand in the fuckin’ air and eyes e’rywhere, ‘cause The Followin’ is the future and THE FUTURE IS NOW.