05 - The Profile Of A Pariah?
05
The Profile Of A Pariah?
Federation: That Tourney Thing _____ Event: Just Another Day
Opponent: The Full Monty ________,,' Type: A Young, Angry Man
Title: The Profile Of A Pariah?
[.. June 28th, 2001 // Sometime, Somewhere ..]
[.. Advance. Study. Prepare. Advance again. Study. Prepare again. It's a never ending cycle to elimination or excellence, and the ride is only as long as your luck will hold out. Nerve Wrecker put up a much better fight than Jake Keeton, but now we move on to Montrose... a man who is anything BUT a God. Montrose, the guy who merely beat Billy Ray, an IWO reject. You know what we say about IWO in the HWF? ..]
[.. FUCK IWO. ..]
[.. So you'll excuse me if I'm not very afraid or scared to face this Montrose guy. He hasn't done anything notable in the tournament, other than get put in a lucky position. I listen to everything and everyone, Montrose... and I'm not impressed. ..]
[.. So you had problems as a kid. More precisely, you got beat up because you were a cocky bastard. Some things never change. So you got beat up because you mouthed off to a gang. Because you were a bully. And consequently, you became this amazing wrestler, fighting against all odd to become a Human Wrecking Ball. ..]
[.. Last week, when I said that I like cheese... I didn't expect to end up facing a guy with the cheesiest nickname in existence. ..]
[.. Let me get this straight, Mont. You got beat up. You recover. You battle against all odds because this beatdown gave you a mean streak like no other. You might think that I'm afraid of you because of this mean streak. Hell, you might think I'm scared of you because of your "accomplishments". Let me assure you that I am not. You think that's a bad youth? You think that you have a mean streak because of the past? Apparently you haven't heard MY story. ..]
[.. And after all... that's why we're here, aren't we? To hear my story? ..]
[.. If you were a HWF wrestler, I'd expect you to have done your homework and already know my life. I'd expect you to know why Michael Trey is the way he is. At least, to know as much as anyone else does. But you're not in the HWF, and you're not ambitious enough to actually study your opponent. So get ready to take some notes on a real outcast. The profile of an actual pariah. Like I said back at the beginning... ..]
[.. I'm Michael Trey, and this is my story. Presented to you by my pathetic life. Sponsored by every tragedic in my past. Brought to you by my complete and utter boredom. ..]
[.. Michael Trey was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, on October 10th, 1975. His parents were Mary and Frederick Trey. They were a middle class family, living in Milwaukee at the time. Frederick was an independent circuit wrestler, often appearing at any show that would pay him on their way through the midwest. After about three years, Mary became pregnant again. Unfortunately, this pregnancy went awry... though the baby survived, Mary died during childbirth. The son, Joshua Trey, was slightly underweight. Frederick was shattered, emotionally, from the death of his wife. Somehow, he pulled together and raised his two sons on the money he managed to earn from the indy wrestling circuit. Often, the two children would be taken with him from show to show. ..]
[.. Not exactly a great start to life. At the age of three, gaining a brother, losing a mother. You'd think that I couldn't remember it... but I can. I remember sitting in the hospital, making a card for her. I remember Dad getting out of his chair when a doctor came, and I remember their faces like it was yesterday. I remember walking past my mother's room, hearing the flatline. ..]
[.. Most of all, I remember how my father cried for days... to this day, I cannot manage to cry. To grieve. All I felt was anger. At God... at the world... at my brother... at everything. Makes sense, doesn't it? ..]
[.. Several years later, when Michael was nearing age 10, he and his brother were at home. Their father got up and packed a gym bag, saying that he'd be right back after his workout. The two boys nodded their heads and kept playing their childhood games. You know... checkers, Monopoly. They waved goodbye. It was the last time Michael has seen his father. He never returned that night... the boys were merely greeted by police officers the next morning, saying that their father had gone missing. ..]
[.. If I didn't already hate the entire world... I did then. ..]
[.. Michael and his brother were split up, jumping from foster home to foster home. At one point, they tried running away and living on their own, but it wasn't long before they were caught and sent once again to another foster home. Michael was suspended from several high schools and expelled a few times... he would fight constantly. People would talk about his family... spread rumors. His mother was a hooker; his father, overdosed on drugs. Or how about they were cultists, and had left to go commit mass suicide leaving Michael behind? Or maybe he was an accident and his mother simply dumped him off at a doorstep. No one cares about the truth... and in reaction, Michael beat-up anyone he heard talking about it. ..]
[.. I once heard a wise man say, "Don't talk about what you don't know firsthand, what you didn't hear from the SOURCE." Most people don't listen to that. Result? I hate most people. ..]
[.. Michael finally settled in at a particular high school. He became very good friends with a guy by the name of Rob Blackwell. This school also was where he met his future fiance, Claire Matthews. They never dated in high school... they were simply best friends. After graduation, Claire went off to get a degree in Computer Science and Michael went to the armed forces for a short time. ..]
[.. A mistake. I hated it in the armed forces... the only thing good to come from the armed forces was that I met Biggie D and Blazing Inferno there. Yeah, those are nicknames... they have other nicknames, but I'll get to that when we get to that. ..]
[.. Michael didn't last long in the army... but while he was there, he met two large guys nicknames Biggie D and Blazing Inferno. These two guys were big men that loved to drink. After he left the army, Michael decided to try wrestling school at age 19. His father's career was a great way to get admitted; second-generation wrestlers automatically have a better knowledge of the sport. Michael re-united with his brother, Joshua Trey. Michael also convinced Rob Blackwell, Biggie D and Blazing Inferno to join them at the school. Biggie and Inferno ended up facing two guys named Bisc Limpkit and Lord Knighthood. After all their fights, eventually the four became comrades... and this entire group became what was known as the New Revolution. All of them had seemingly bright futures in wrestling... but then Rob paralyzed a guy with his finisher. He was banned from all wrestling for a year. ..]
[.. That dumb fucker... I told him not to use that Sudden Death for a finisher. How'd he describe it? A T-Bone Suplex spun over into standing Kryptonite Krunch, I think. Stupid... stupid. ..]
[.. So what happened to the New Revolution? Biggie D and Blazing Inferno renamed themselves Howitzer and Shrapnel, the team of Espionage. They continued their training, hoping one day to join the HWF. Bisc Limpkit and Lord Knighthood went off into the independent federations, wrestling as the tag team called New Revolution after the group. Joshua Trey went off on with the New Rev, renaming himself Blake Frost for his cold demeanor. As for Michael? Well, Michael was short a tag team partner at this point. He and Rob had planned to enter the HWF together, but Rob was banned now. Instead, Michael went on his own... and won both the tag titles and the World title within his first month. ..]
[.. I took out everything on those people. I hated everyone. I hated them because Rob got himself banned. I hated them because my dad had disappeared. I hated them because my mother was dead. ..]
[.. Well, slowly, Michael became an icon and a superstar in the HWF, setting almost every record and winning almost every title. Eventually he opened his own federation, the Smackdown! Wrestling Federation. The fed collapsed after several months, then reopened for a short time before finally dying completely. But from that federation, several HWF stars began their careers. It was also there that New Revolution joined as a tag team, getting in with Trey's recommendation. Throughout his tenure at HWF since December 1999, original New Revolution members have come and gone. He led a partion of them as the Forgotten Souls, and they were at the top of the federation for a long time. And Claire came back too, as a part of the gang. She was Michael's best friend and his valet. ..]
[.. We were all over the place. Anything major in the HWF circuit, we were involved. The Forgotten Souls and the New Revolution, running RAMPANT. But it hasn't been a perfect career. ..]
[.. Injuries have been a major factor through Michael's career. He has two fused vertebrae in his neck, caused when he was hit by a mysterious driver, later revealed to be enemy Justin Storm. That neck injury has been a reoccuring problem. Along with it have come a myriad of scars, stitches, burns, and bruises. He's also had his shoulder crushed and his ankle severely sprained. The Hardcore Wrestling Federation's insane stipulations, combined with Michael's dare devil personality, has led to a number of hospital visits. He's also become the HWF's resident pyromaniac, a master of fire. ..]
[.. That I did. But besides that, my stay has been filled with backstage drama as well... ..]
[.. Bisc Limpkit was, at one time, the Vice President of Michael's SWF. When it closed, Bisc joined the staff at HWF and in fact brought many SWF tactics with him... and even a few star wrestlers. At that time, Bisc, Claire, and Michael were all best friends and nothing more. But before long... Bisc began to screw Michael over at every possible moment, and stole Claire... jarring Michael to the realization that he loved her. Along with VP Shawn Collins, Bisc tore apart Michael on every level. Making him face idiotic jobbers like The Rapist and Mike Hunt... Stealing his girlfriend... and eventually his career downslid. And just when he thought he'd saved Claire, she slapped him, showing that in fact she had always been with Bisc. Along with wrestler of the future, Phoenix, they destroyed Michael... ..]
[.. I was broken. Like no other time in my life... because the two people closest to me had made it their goal to ruin me. ..]
[.. Then the whole plan fell apart. Phoenix never got the push he had worked for. It turned out that Claire was merely under mind-control the entire time, and in the resulting chaos, Bisc got in a car wreck and fell into a coma. Claire and Michael, previously engaged until her turn, were now reunited. But Michael still couldn't dig himself out of the career hole he was in. Tempest and Chris Davison, two allies, weren't as helpful as his old friends had been. So, in the most shocking moment in HWF history... Michael turned heel, costing Tempest the World Title. ..]
[.. So... do you understand me any better now? Now that you know all that any other person does? I've gone through more than you could possibly imagine, even after that brief history lesson. For me to expect to fully know Montrose right now is preposterous... and so is anyone claiming to know me. You want to explain how you're violent because of a gang beating in your childhood? That's great... I don't have that luxury. I have to face the real world everyday and realize that I'm not violent for one specific reason. I'm violent because I'm messed up beyond repair. ..]
[.. I am a spaceman lost in a blackhole. Beyond hope and beyond rescue. ..]
[.. Not literally, of course. ..]
..] June 26th, 2001 // The Desk of Michael Trey [..
June 26th... Wrestling God?
I am on a "roll".
The last time I wrote in here, I was preparing for three matches. I won two. Want to examine my record over the past couple of weeks? I have defeated Tempest, the current HWF world champion. I have defeated Wrecking Crew, the current HWF tag team champions. I have defeated Phoenix and Jonathon Storm, two of the favorites to win HWF's King of Violence. At least, I consider it a win over Storm, whether he does or not. I have become FWF Tag Champion and defended it. I have gone through Jake Keeton and Nerve Wrecker in the Wrestling God tournament. I like I said, I am on a roll, except for that fluke against Davison and another against Louden. I should be happy, I should be confident.
But I'm not.
Sunday night, when I got home from the airport, I laid down on the couch and passed out. Literally passed out, fell asleep, gone. Claire tried and tried to wake me up, but the jet lag and the battle wounds and the worrying had finally caught up to me that week. I was dead to the world. I woke up an hour later, my head sitting in Claire's lap and her tears hitting my cheek. I looked up into her eyes, but all she could do was shake her head and cry. I knew that I couldn't do this to her anymore.
No matter how hard I work, I still never have it all.
So I sat there, my head in her hands and my mind swirling, and I started thinking about Chris Davison and Tempest. Not about wrestling. I couldn't dare think about wrestling at that moment, at that second. No... I was thinking about their engagement. How deeply in love they were. How Chris would do anything for her... take a week off, maybe? Lie down in a match for her? I thought about how Tempest would soothe his ego. Encourage him because she knows he wouldn't endanger either of them. She knows that he won't cross lines and boundaries. They love each other above themselves and their own desires.
You know, at one time, I was supposed to be their best man.
And now, their best man has moved on, trying to become a better man. No matter what the fans or the wrestlers say, I still know that what I did was the right thing. I wasn't successful with them. I wasn't successful as the hero. I wasn't successful as the Michael Trey Action Hero that I'd been built up to be. I didn't have the extending arms and the laser vision. So I became what I should have always been, and that's okay. Tempest and Davison weren't the right group for me. They're their own group. And at the moment, I envy them.
Sunday night, I looked up at Claire again. Her tears had slowed, and I raised my hand to her face. She brushed it aside and started to get off the couch. Helping me to the bedroom, she made me promise that I would be examined by a doctor as soon as I could. And because I love her so much, I agreed. I don't want her to worry about my health, but when I'm passing out after road trips, even I have to admit that something is wrong. That maybe I am stretching myself a little thin.
So I got examined today, two days after I passed out. They took a whole lot of tests... it took almost an hour to get out of the place. Finally they decided that I had gotten dehydrated. Combined with stress, lack of sleep, and the abuse my body goes through, that caused me to blackout Sunday night. I sat there in the waiting room, just waiting to see what the results were. Twiddling my thumbs. Counting sheep. Wasting time. I kept wondering... what if I can't wrestle anymore? I was geniunely scared of that. But heavier on my mind was the thought of brain damage or some other life-long problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew Claire would have to take care of me when we got old.
I sat there, after all the poking, prodding, jabbing, temperature taking, blood pressure checking, vitamin and mineral testing. I sat there and I thought about Claire. Then I thought about my health. Then I thought about wrestling. I got incredibly angry... and I'm not sure why, now. But then, sitting in that waiting room, it made sense. Here I am, wrestling in this giant tournament. Between my numerous neck injuries, shoulder and ankle problems a year ago, and various concussions, minor broken bones, scratches, stitches, burns, and scars, I've started to become a walking hospital ward. And now I have to face someone who considers himself better than me. Someone who is a human wrecking ball.
I sat there, and I stewed. This anger, whatever the feeling was, it sat and it grew. It festered. Finally the nurse called me, and I half-shouted 'HERE!' as I stood. Within minutes, my worries were gone. The doctor told me to get some rest, drink lots of fluids, and I should be physically ready for action. Then... as I happily opened the door on my way out... he stopped me. Told me that my high level of stress was a big part of the problem.
I suppose I should blame you, journal. You were supposed to be my release. You were supposed to be my first step on the twelve step program. You were supposed to be... so much more.
I don't acknowledge my problems. I don't know why yet.
So the doctor says I'll be fine, but he wants me to have a psychiatric check-up. He had checked my file and had seen the several previous sessions I've had with Doctor Eileen Kastner. I'm supposed to go through a full hour session with her tomorrow. Yippee.
I don't know if Claire will be able to handle going through this again, but I'm sure she can. Claire is strong, and is plenty busy with the planning of our wedding. I really think the whole affair will go well, she's really good at this type of thing. It's all very organized... that's just how Claire is.
Anyway, Claire is going to handle this wedding planning just fine. I've got an appointment with Dr. Kastner tomorrow and everything will be straightened out and then it's on to King of Violence. On to Drunk With Power. On to Round Three of Wrestling God and Montrose.
Pathetic. That's all I've got when I think of Montrose. The guy sees a few online predictions that I'm going to win and he is already psyched out. He goes on TV and rambles, telling me to go home or something. You know what? Montrose is already looking forward to Mike Extreme.
As though he'd get past both me AND Shawn Collins.
Ironic, isn't it? We just keep going around and around, only each ring around twists the line a little bit more. I keep coming back to Shawn, he keeps coming back to me... but that's a different story. We're on Montrose, and Montrose isn't much. Sure, he's got size. He's got confidence... too much of it.
But he doesn't have the intelligence and the experience that I do, and that's where a lot of these guys will fall. I've been fighting for something my entire life, and this is my chance to show them that. Everyone thinks they're the best.... just can't work that way. It WON'T work that way... I will put all I have into beating them, starting with Keeton and Wrecker. Now, Montrose. The question right now isn't "Can I win Wrestling God?". The question is "Can I survive until the end of Wrestling God?". Because while all of my soul and being wants this and has prepared for this... I've got other things to worry about.
I'm torn in so many directions, and I'm trying to go in all of them. Wrestling God. FWF. HWF. Claire. That's in no particular order. It's draining me physically and emotionally, and it still feels like sometimes I'm just treading water. Going nowhere. Like the next round of the tournaments could be my last. Like I'll never rise above tag champion. Like I shouldn't even show up for King of Violence. Like the next round of the tournaments could be my last. Then I wake up and realize that the biggest, most glaring fear is that Claire just might not put up with this much longer.
If only I could go back and do things over again... if only I could go back and do things right from the beginning. I'm getting somewhat on the right track... but it's a big hole to be digging out of. My career, I'm not worried about that. I can handle that. But if I had done things right back at the start, I would have both Claire AND my career. Now that it's too late, well... it seems that no matter how hard I work, I can't put things right.
[.. June 28th, 2001 // Sometime, Somewhere ..]
[.. That was two days ago that I wrote that entry, and things haven't gotten any better. Physically, yeah. But my life is still being torn in every direction. ..]
[.. I am an atom bomb... ready to blow at any second. I am a game of tug o' war... everyone just pulls and pulls until the rope breaks. I am... ..]
[.. I am a more than an opponent. I am a man. ..]
[.. So, Montrose, go ahead and treat me like just another wrestler to shrug off. Or ignore me to tell everyone another heartbreaking story. In case you missed it earlier, let me recap... I don't know you. You don't know me. So don't try to pretend, OK? You've looked at my cover, but you'll never get past chapter one. You've waded in the kiddie end of the pool, but you'll never advance to the high dive. You've... ..]
[.. You've taken the first step towards learning my story. Presented by... Sponsored by... Brought to you by... who gives a damn? ..]
[.. After all...you're the one that's going to advance. Note my sarcasm. If you honestly believe you can beat someone who is prepared in every possible way through experience, you're wrong. As rough as I am right now physically, I never EVER lay off in the ring. I WILL be at peak on Saturday... I suggest you are too. Otherwise, you'll just be one more step. ..]
[.. One more useless ad. ..]
[.. One more piece of cheese. ..]
ROLEPLAY STATISTICS:
Words: Lots of them, mostly English, although a little Espanol never hurt anyone.
Characters: Michael, Claire, and the history teacher. All interesting ones, too.
Size: Mine is bigger than yours. It's OK, you can admit that.
Intelligence: Lots and lots and lots. Bags full. Maybe even a bushel. WHEE!
This roleplay is property of Michael Trey and is to be used only for judging purposes in Roleplay God 2. All graphics are property of Michael Trey and all likenesses of Matt Hardy are property of Titan Sports; no copyright infringement intended.