Who is this Kay Fabe? He sounds exotic.

“Why am I doing this?”

It shouldn’t have taken a brain surgeon to figure out that after the events in Nevada, the career trajectory would trickle into a mudslide. It took an entire roster to distract a man long enough for another to gain a victory. One in particular, however, would take credit for all of that. The same guy who is part of the Cosmic Ballet.. Or whatever those two are called this week. Actually, come to think of it, the Cosmic Ballet would have at least been t-shirt worthy. Regardless, the deck was stacked and a loss was suffered. Take the wins and losses for what they are, and move on. Not like they matter in the rankings anyways.

As the crescendo would be met at Unbreakable Resolution, the reality had become clear. This was the end of an Outlaw. He knew it, they knew it. Kind of made things predictable, did it not? It was a miracle of sorts for the company that the fans hadn’t taken matters into their own hands. They shouted a lot of nasty words at the guy, but never quite had the balls to act. Regardless of that nonsense, it was the easy fact that the world had pitted war against Colton Saint.

Everybody Knows That The Dice Are Loaded..

To say that it was Zane who eventually led to the downfall of the Last Breathing Outlaw would be a bit presumptuous. Her victory at Bloodbath was only a chapter in the difficult situation that the former X-Factor Champion was stuck in. Fighting the battles for Kimberly Chase, being accused of not defending the Championship by the booking committee who deemed every opponent for Saint as ‘unworthy’ prior to Bloodbath itself. He was fighting the losing battle ever since winning the damn thing. Maxwell, she called it, yet it was he who had the burden of carrying it.

Everybody Rolls With Their Fingers Crossed..

It was finally an undefeated upstart who dethroned Colton Saint in his very first title defense. Wait a moment, undefeated? Nevermind, the guy hadn’t won a match until that contest took place. Worthiness went out the window as the big picture was set out by Rock Johnson himself. Not a conspiracy nut or anything, but Colton knew he was battling a system that few had succeeded in. Ask The Predator, Jason Terrance, Elijah Somethingorother. They felt the gavel fall on them when they were not fitting into ‘the mold’.

Everybody Knows That The War Is Over..

Once the burden of carrying the belt had gone away, Colton Saint made the decision that would ultimately cost him any favor or opportunity in the company. While many were expecting, even begging, for an apology or some kind of explanation, they were met with silence. It wasn’t them that he needed to apologize to. They were simple pieces of the machine that led to the man becoming a monster. They needed a story to tell their children that the boogeyman did exist. Something to put their minds at ease, knowing that the possibility of the children behaving were growing greatly.

Everybody Knows The Good Guys Lost..

Their hopes had only triggered resentment from the monster himself. The man who he was, the carefree hillbilly had died. He was under ground, in more ways than one. The critics of him had a field day, calling for his head, to be #Cancelled. Seriously, did that shit ever work? He was still with the company, and he was still outclassing their heroes every time he set foot in the ring. Look at the Tag Match for example. Did anyone notice Contessa was in the ring? The fans didn’t. Their eyes weren’t locked on her, they weren’t locked on Aiden Two-months-to-get-panties-to-drop, they weren’t even locked on the Grand Champion. Those people were background characters to a telling story, that the enemy of the business was there for a fight.

Everybody Knows That The Fight Was Fixed..

The fix was definitely in, to say the least. If it wasn’t that handicap match wrapped in a tag team contest, it was the Deathmatch coming up against Lazarus Arjen. Did anybody really think the gauntlet would get easier? A Deathmatch, eh? Was this a situation where someone would have to die? Lightbulbs? Steve Blackman’s glow sticks? A stuffed MYOJIN doll? Maybe even a baked pie or cupcake? If Lazarus would die in the match, wouldn’t that make Colton Saint a full blown murderer? More ammo needed to get him OUT of the company? If Colton Saint died, wouldn’t the company be sued for Criminal Negligence? Or was this just some silly gimmick name to where two people use weapons to try and keep someone down for a three count? Explain yourselves, Project: Honor!  

The Poor Stay Poor, The Rich Get Rich..

As much as the fans would like to see the demise of someone in front of their children, odds are, it wouldn’t happen. Not a very family friendly match, to say the least. At the end of the day, the company was shilling their Pay Per View. That Pay Per View was featuring the Last Stand of the Outlaw as he was expected to do battle with MYOJIN on December 20th. They wouldn’t DARE mess up that ‘starmaking’ match for the ‘Shining Star’, right? Maybe they could just book him against Sara Cross if she ever showed her face again, or the legendary return of Kasey Winterborn, or the iconic war against Daniel Horror. MYOJIN vs. Horror II, now that was a money match. The only one getting rich off of all this was Colton himself. He would walk in, and walk right back out paid more each time. Something about easy money had it’s advantages.

That’s How It Goes..

That was the cost of doing business, one would suppose. At the end of the day, regardless of the thoughts, Colton Saint was a guy who entered the business to make some money. It was working, was it not? No matter who was put in front of him, he did his job and he did it very well. The match with Zane was regarded by many as a legendary contest to third party critics. He may not have come away with the victory, but it pretty much guaranteed opportunity in other endeavors once he left the business. Whether the script was followed or not, it didn’t matter. The two went to war, and they brought the promised bloodshed despite not using a single weapon. No choreographed falls, no hiding the air mattresses, it was a wrestling match. That was something that couldn’t be taken away from them, in spite of the events that took place after. You know who thanked him for that match? Not a single soul.That hurt the Outlaw. The locker room was transfixed on their own agendas, even the ‘Crescent Moon’ was treated with nothing more than a fixed fight of her own on the next event. Whoops.. Okay, so credit to Indy Darling though for being somebody who showed enough respect to Colton in their encounter. For some reason, Colton liked Indy and his heart. Couldn’t have been a nicer guy to drop that strap to.

Everybody Knows.

Was it obvious by now? The words of the wise always stated that the sun will rise every single day. For Colton himself, there was nothing but darkness on the horizon. A Deathmatch, a Last Man Standing Match, a Bouncy House Brawl on a live event, not to mention the Bikini Contest that he somehow won in another event. The reality is more grim than what you would see on television, Colton Saint was a broken man. His heart had been shattered by the business that he gave his body and soul to. People had become so disingenuous, oftentimes waiting for him to turn away so they could speak their truth to one another.. Nothing mattered for him, the match didn’t matter, Lazarus didn’t matter, in many respects, the world didn’t matter. He had his one focus on what was coming next. He knew where his soul was, and it was no longer negotiable to get it back. Not like he wanted it back, anyways. However a good shoulder? That would be sublime.




:A Chance Encounter:
:Rofflestomp Ranch:

This was the big moment for Ace Reporter Dilan Valentine. A long time friend of Colton Saint, Valentine struggled often to find work. Something about warrants for an arrest in France? Didn’t matter, he was a lovely man. Always dressed to the nines, a Dapper little Dan. He sat on the back porch of the home of the former Great Protector, also the home of the Whopper. Across from the bowtied bonanza was another. Dressed in his blue jeans and ironically, a MYOJIN t-shirt, the ‘Last Breathing Outlaw’ Colton Saint. A beer in one hand, a cigarette in another, it was the perfect set up to the perfect storm.

“You know your Youtube channel is going to get reported for this, right? These overly sensitive Aunt Carols are going to be upset.”

“If they do, it was totally worth it. So, joining me at this time, the man needs no introduction. Or deserves no introduction? Colton, how are you doing buddy?”

“I feel like dancing, Dilan. I could do the waltz on somebody’s grave right now. Maybe my own after this Deathmatch they have me set for.”

The two exchanged laughs. It wasn’t so much to make light of death itself, that could be a bitch. It was more in regards to how he got into the match, and why he should fear somebody like Lazarus Arjen.

“Before we get into any of the questions, I have to ask.. A MYOJIN shirt? But.. You’re wearing a shirt of the man you’re facing in the Outlaw’s Last Stand at Unbreakable Resolution on December 20th?”

Colton looked down at his shirt, trying to wipe off a beer stain. He shrugged once he realized it was a lost cause.

“Oh, this little old thing? I found it in the reject bin at the Project: Honor warehouse. In fact, I found a lot of his shirts there. Strange, is it not? I suppose though, I’m doing my part in promoting that match on December 25? 31st? What’s the date again? Of course I know it’s the 20th, who could forget! I had Rock Johnson literally nose to nose with me, fuck social distancing, right? I suppose though, it’s okay, if I can survive carrying people through halfway good matches, I can survive the Coronavirus.”

“Speaking of carrying people through matches, you’re going one on one with Lazarus Arjen.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I saw that on the card, a Deathmatch. Wait, did you know you were booked?”

“Of course I did! Duh, I was there, right? I even wrote it down. Want to see what I wrote? Here it is.. *ahem* I will be fighting Lazarus, not sure what that name means, but do know it’s a Deathmatch. I expect to get hit by a fan, I also expect a fan to be thrown at me. Not a fan like a person, but a fan like an object. I’m expecting a fan to fall on me at some point. If I do survive this match, I wil..Milk, Eggs, Pizza Rolls, Turkey Jerky, Get Gas. Oh shit, that was my grocery list and a reminder that I needed to purchase fuel, not get farty gas.”

“The world will be watching, Colton. They’ll get to enjoy violence in the workplace, possibly an active shooter situation, and you making kids cry.”

“Making kids cry? You know I hear that backstage, right? I mean seriously, I won’t mention names, but SOMEBODY was reduced to tears when the wrong coffee was sent to them. So, making kids cry, no big deal. It happens all the time.”

“You seem very relaxed, especially considering the negative light the press has given you in recent weeks. I heard someone egged your car. Did you ever find out who did it?”

“I have state of the art technology. These cameras, they let me see everything..EVERYTHING. Did I mention, Everything? I saw who egged me car, Dilan. To be Frank, or Bob, or even Al, I hate to call this person out via Youtube. Should I do it? Should I expose this fraud? Dare I take such a risk? Fine.. I will.. Kurrgan you son of a bitch, that’s a 75,000 dollar car!!!”

“Kurrgan?”

“Yeah, the dude is huge! He was wearing a weird hat and tie dye fucking shirts and weird pants. He danced while doing it? I don’t fuckin’ know. It doesn’t matter, nobody’s watching this anyways. So, let’s get to the point, you’re asking me questions, I will attempt to answer a few of them. Do it up.”

“What are your thoughts on heading back to North Carolina to be in the Deathmatch against Lazarus Arjen? Ardeen? I can’t pronounce the man’s name, such a professional I am.”

“You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me! I quit!”

“Fine.. Let’s talk this over a little. I promise, I will never say any bad words about mispronunciations. I have enough people doing that for me. Some are much more ruthless than others. You’re hired!”

“Okay, so North Carolina.”

“I hate Michael Jordan.”

“Do you wish you were in a Deathmatch with Michael Jordan?”

“It’d be more entertaining! I’m sure this Lazarus fella wishes he could dunk like Michael Jordan. He won’t have to though, because according to the rules, he’s supposed to die. I read the script, Dilan. Someone dies in this match. Someone actually dies, think about that. Think about the fact that this company is going to be bankrupt the night after the match. Just digest that for a second. Could you imagine if Muggsy Bogues was running down the court for the Charlotte Hornets, and he just keeled up and died? They’d stop the league, at least until merchandise sales went down. That Muggsy jersey though, it’d be hot. It’d be a collector’s item.”

“So, Lazarus?”

“Oh yeah, he’s there too. So I did read the script, and believe me, the commentary is going to be excellent! They’re going to say all this stuff about how mean I am, and how much I deserve to die. I’m not playing God here, I don’t choose who lives, or who even dies. All I can do is get in the ring, and punch the guy. Punch him again, maybe another few punches. I might even give him a nice kick to the knee, it won me a match before. Let’s be real though, there’s a lot of weapons in this match! They’re even thinking of throwing a sink in there, a trash compactor, dishwasher. I don’t mean the machine, I mean the guy at Panera Bread who literally is just paid to wash dishes. He’ll be there. Shit, we play our cards right, I might just pick him up and swing him like a baseball bat. Do you know off hand if this building is non-smoking? I’d like to sit down during my match, light one up, and just talk to the fans. They’ll be more entertaining, I’m certain of it. I saw a sign at the last show, I shit you not Dilan. The sign said ‘Cancel the Amber Alert!’. I lost it!”

“Wait, somebody put that?”

“Yep. Evidently one of the guys in the company said it on Twitter, I wasn’t paying attention since I don’t really talking to people on Twitter anymore. A lot of shitheads, usually the fans are rather aggressive but this one. This one made me laugh. It was almost as funny as Lazarus = Ratings. Fuck, I’m no math major, but I’m pretty sure he put zero asses in those seats. Well, maybe one since they went out of their way to make a fucking sign for the guy.”

“Maybe Lazarus himself gave him one?”

“He might have! I mean people get pretty desperate. I know he’ll get desperate in the match, again, I saw the script. He does some weird ass shit in this match. If he chooses to break script, we will not see the iconic Lazarus Shuffle. I’d like to see him do it, since reading the script really didn’t give me a visual on how he looks when dancing. He’d fit right in. He’d fit in perfectly with the likes of MYOJIN, the dancing machine himself. I’ve never seen such a lousy attempt at the Moonwalk in my life. That includes watching my sister attempt it when she was bombed. Still more entertaining than Lazarus in his natural habitat. All he does is sleep and shit. About the same he does in the ring, just he has a bed and a toilet.”

“So, pretty much what I’m gathering from this interview is you’re going to lose this one bad.”

“Oh yeah! I’m going to get kicked around the building, I’ll get a light tube stuck in a weird spot, I’ll have all kinds of problems. Some would call it “Just Dessert” for the HORRIBLE things I’ve done in the company. I’ve done some shitty things, Dilan. I truly have. I pushed some bums into traffic. I beat up a guy who looked like Chris Hansen. I broke into my opponents home, and adjusted a picture. I even took a bite out of a mozzarella stick. OH NO!! THE SAVAGE!! Yeah, I’ve done those things, not to brag, but I did it. I also, for some reason, went to Lancaster and defiled a building? I was pretty drunk that night, but it was promo material. So, yeah, a Deathmatch, I’m sure someone will enjoy it. I’m sure some won’t, but I’m certain somewhere, somehow, I’ll lay down on the mat and take the L. I do that a lot, let’s get that sub .500 record! Breaking barriers, baby!”

“So, if you could say one thing to Lazarus right now, what would it be?”

“I’d ask who his barber is. That would be a definite question. Not sure why he looks that way, or carries that attitude. He looks like the lost cousin of my favorite wrestler on the planet, Daniel Horror. Then again, it’s a pretty common look. People do look a little silly when they’re breaking into the business. Quick everybody! DYE YOUR HAIR!! Make sure you paint them fingernails!! Pretend to be Goth, and buy your gear at Hot Topic!! Fuck sakes man.. All these guys are the fucking same, and they want to pretend to be ‘cutting edge’ or original or some shit. Fuck these guys. I just got done having a feud over a pair of God damned Shoes, why would I give a shit about this match? Why would I care about performing, yes, performing to you smart mark bitches, in front of a bunch of people who want me to die? Why take it seriously? Tell me Dilan, why should I care when I already know what’s going to happen?”

“Because you’re being paid to do it?”

“Because I’m being paid to do it. That’s right. I don’t give a fuck if Crystal Ward challenges me to that Hell In A Cell Scaffold Match that MYOJIN vs. Dickie match was, I’ll get in there. I’ll eat the pin, shit happens. You can call this senioritis, you can call this ‘breaking the fourth wall’, but let’s be real, that wall got torn down as soon as I entered this place. So, whatever happens, it happens. If they flip the script and I magically come away with the most incredible victory in the history of the company, okay. Let’s shock the world. Let’s not go on a ten minute rant about the opponent, let’s get in there and tell the story the way it should be told. Not overproduced, not lame, not even predictable. Lazarus, show me that you have an ounce of originality beneath your skin, because once I rip you open with a..barbed wire Teddy Bear? We’ll see how original you really are.”

“Wow, that’s pretty telling, Colton. We’re about out of time here, any last things you want to throw out there to the public?”

“Yeah, I wonder how my old pal Jack is doing. I’m certain he still smells great.”

“Alright, a possibly drunken Colton Saint has given us his time, thank you Colton for not shying away from being who you’ve always been. Although, the serial killer part is a little strange.”

“I did not kill a single person on camera.”

“What about that thug?”

“The door was closed, you didn’t see shit. I didn’t kill anyone in front of the camera, never. I didn’t kill a guy with a pacemaker, I certainly didn’t kill Chris Hansen, or that guy who I shoved the cell phone down the throat of. I did it to entertain you! I did all of this, all these deeds for one simple reason, so Dilan Valentine could have a laugh. All for you, my friend. Now get off my property before I fucking stab you.”

“Always a joker, Colton Saint everybody!”

The ominous glare on Colton’s face remained as he watched Dilan. He slowly brought his finger to his throat, signaling that he would kill the guy if he didn’t get off the property. So yeah, Lazarus vs. Colton Saint, eh? Should be a barnburner!