Not the Main Event
The Magic Erasers
“I told her what was going to happen if she didn’t put me back where I belong. Now, it’s as if she’s daring me to do it again. To that, I say fine. So be it. His blood won’t be on my hands.” — Eggsecutioner’s Excerpt, May 3rd, 2023
I, Cancer Jiles, have landed in Whatever Town USA in preparation for ReVival 27. I’ve also checked into one of the four hundred plus locations my hotel chain has to offer. And, because I’m a man for others, I even earned an unbeknownst to him Timo Bolamba double points since I used his Discover Card to pay for the whole thing.
What a guy!
Timo that is.
The room I’m squatting in, similar to The Anglo Luchador, is nothing special. There’s a little desk and a matching chair to go along with it. Which, just so happens to be where I’m stationed at. There’s also a queen sized bed, a flatscreen TV, and the adjoining bathroom is surprisingly clean. Well, clean until Rumplestilsken comes clogging. Until then, alone, and in the dark, I sit. Well, the lights are on in the room, but it seems dark to me from behind the cover of my T-shades.
Anyway, alone I sit, and more importantly alone I sulk. Not because my hair is white, or the collar on my electric blue company man tracksuit is wilting, but because I thought for sure, after I said it and then did it, that there was no possible way I’d be passed over.
I THOUGHT for sure that Mom was smart, and that she valued her roster more than a body bag. Yet, I was wrong. She is not smart. She does not value her roster, and she wants me to fill the body bags with the undercard. I know this because my simple ‘ask’ has gone ignored. No MAIN EVENT. No ten thousand word apology. No shoe pepper. And to boot, a match against some crumb I’ve never even heard of, and seemingly taking place a hundred matches before the MAIN EVENT.
Feels like I’m wrestling on Thursday instead of Friday.
No thank you.
Where is Eric Dane at when you need him, ya know?
I’m not mad.
No, I’m just disappointed.
“Well what do you know?”
I wait. It’s exaggerated, unenthusiastic, and longer than it should be. So yes, I excessively yawned.
“I had no idea. Really. Truly. None. I even knew about Jacob so in a way it’s kind of extra insulting that I didn’t know about you. When I use the term extra insulting what I mean is it’s like if your name came second when mentioned in a tag team with Darin Zion.”
I know, that’s pretty insulting.
“Turns out though, after some extensive Data Mining that is, that you, Johnopher Hallchris, and I have a few things in common. You, like me, are another day one guy. You, like me, are another Almasy guy. You even got eliminated from the tournament by Brandon Youngblood in the MAIN EVENT.”
A charcoal loogie goes adrift, and suddenly the bathroom isn’t as clean anymore.
“I know that feeling all too well.”
“But no, it doesn’t stop there, John. You enjoy peterbing the boss like I do. You’ve even struggled against her tyrannical and defiant iron fist. It’s like we could be step brothers.”
“Then, buried underneath a ream of faxes, I nearly shit myself upon reading it– but I learned you even battled my Bandits! Not only that but you won. Imagine my surprise when finding out Dooze even made it down to the ring for a match, let alone you winning it. Shell shocked, I tell you.”
Like, where was I for any of that? Oh, yeah, dragging my nutsack across the MAIN EVENT’S face.
I frown again.
“So yeah, in other words I guess I owe you one. For the boys. The real shame of it is that they aren’t even around anymore, so it doesn’t have to be severe. It doesn’t have to be ugly. We could have had a beer, cracked an egg, or compared wrestling tights after the match was over.”
Last frown. Promise.
“Sadly though, LINDSAY TROY has decided to call my bluff and sacrifice any and all who come my way until my simple demands are met. I know, not your fault, but still, instead of boats and hoes, aka USS Octane and Vickie, and instead of you possibly being in the IT band two point oh, Mom has made you a PRIME candidate for my other one.”
D.O.C. 4 LIFE
The Friar. The Teacher. The Midnight Creature. And Ted.
“Allow me to elaborate on the harmonious fate Lady Troy has very likely bestowed upon you because of her blatant ignorance. I have a feeling I need to be crystal clear so maybe someone else understands I’m not playing games.”
A snicker, as I can’t help but to picture the new crew in their choir garb singing ‘I am the COOL’ in perfect harmony. Who’d have ever thought that Nightshift Bathory would have the voice of an angel? Irony. Oh, and Maestro for a reason. Double irony.
“First, I’d like to start off by saying that I’m not a violent man. I’m not. Sure, I enjoy other people’s suffering and having a hand in it like everyone else does, but at the end of the day I got exquisite hair and immaculate T-shades to take care of. I don’t need the added trouble of Riff and Raff hunting me down because I stabbed them in the eye and/or back.”
Another snicker, because I am a dickhead who not only wears T-shades at night, but also relishes in other people’s misery. Like, if I could wash my hair with it I would. Even over the salon rinse.
“However, just because I’m not a violent man, it doesn’t mean I’m not a dangerous one.”
“Now, I don’t mean dangerous like Crumblood or Stanislob when it comes to playing rock, paprika, singlets. Nor do I mean like when Homerun Hayes is standing at the plate in the bottom of the ninth with a full load of my shit in his underpants. Mine as well toss in Crumbcrumb Crumbingcrumb and his Avalonamantium forehead while we’re at it.”
The super apex dangerous predators club.
“I mean I am dangerous because sometimes when I get in a really bad mood, say like when I get denied what I want, and I have to TAKE in order to get back… well, people tend to go missing from the roster page, John.”
Mr. 404 Error and his Magic Erasers, aka Cancer Jiles and his Salt Shoes.
“Again, allow me to further clarify since like I said before I feel the need to be crystal clear is paramount.”
Intent on getting my message across, I sit up in my chair and really zero in my focus. You can tell because the lenses on my T-shades start to frost over.
“Their name gets changed to green in the discord. Their picture gets put on the side of milk cartons. They realize that maybe wrestling isn’t for them, and that fast food is more their speed, or that Gotham City needs saving instead of their manhood, or that advanced calculus face up is easier than counting one, two, three face down, or that stripe on their face is better suited for on their back.”
I snort, causing my level of vitriol to rise.
“I mean they gone, John.”
A menacing pause.
“That’s how dangerous I am.”
Well, as menacing as one can be in a Hotel 6.
“They’ve done been had got getten, and you’d think that would be the worst of it, because done been had got getten does sound quite harrowing after all. However, the true defiling comes later, after I’ve sent them to meet the POWERSLAM ANUBIS. He returns their souls to me as a sign of appreciation.”
Gods and their parlays.
“One of the things I like to have them do is sing to me before I go to sleep at night. Like a lullaby. They ask me if I’d like to supersize my order, or if the Candied Cardinal Crusader was going to appear at COMIC CON, or if I truly understood Pathogoreum’s Theorem?”
A pause, as I smile in excitement.
“Just you wait until Jacob gets fully integrated. The boys still need to beat him in the balls with soap socks to fix his vocal cords, but after his initiation is over I’m sure he’ll be asking me how many times I think he can jump over the moon before I fall asleep.”
I wipe my hands clean of the situation, in essence exonerating me from any future wrongdoing or hazing. Literally that is. I even used some sanitizer, too. Figuratively I suppose could careless. Then, I ponder for a few seconds. Mainly about if I left my phone charger on the jet since I’m running low on battery life and I couldn’t find it when I was unpacking my bag.
“Sorry, I get a little carried away sometimes; it is a passion project of mine.”
“Unfortunately, John, you face the same fate when our paths cross at ReVival Twenty-Seven. I pray you somehow avoid it, and please know I never wanted any of this for you. I didn’t even know who you were up until a few hours ago. Honest. Well, I didn’t remember you I guess would be more apt. Still, I won’t allow LINDSAY TROY to call me a liar so it’s probably best if you brush up on your lullabies.”
Dew the Do
Make a Wish
“This is why I don’t do nice things for people. I get taken advantage of.” — Jiles’ Journal, April 21st, 2023.
I had won. It was easy. I didn’t break a sweat It was a good night. All the same, I still should have left after my match was over.
I did not.
Like an idiot, I stayed around thinking that after seeing what I had done, maybe Mom would be so inclined to pull me aside and tell me what I wanted to hear.
Obviously, that never happened.
However, what did happen during the wondrous euphoria I was experiencing, call it an Eggsecutioner’s rush, was I got taken advantage of and hoodwinked by that peckerwood, Abe. See, I thought I was doing him a good deed. It’s not often I get to grant a wish, and just like John Hallchris, I had no idea who Lips was. I thought he was some poor crumb who had lost his way backstage, and ultimately I was trying to help calm him down until his handler came by and found him.
I know, how very unlike me. But, remember, I was in a good mood. I had eggsterminated someone earlier in the night.
It’s not that far of stretch.
Plus, I have a heart, and I’m not like Lindsay Troy.
Anyway, before I knew it I was pretending to be his favorite wrestler, and talking caffeinated elixirs. I didn’t have the heart to tell him at the time, ya know, because of how I viewed him.
I’ve always been more of a Sprite man.
Still Not the Main Event
The Magic Erasers Part Two
“Why else would she feed him to me? Why else would she ignore my simple, easy, and well deserved demands? Why else would she openly salt my blade and place a bucket in front of him for his head to drop in? Why else would she want him to join my other crew?” — Jiles’ Journal, May 3rd, 2023.
I just remembered with Jake Mosquito recently coming aboard the folks on the USS Octane haven’t had the time to prepare another room yet.
That’s not to say the crew hasn’t moved mountains before.
Best to be ready nonetheless.
Best to be ready to fucking sing that is.