Post by dylanblack on Aug 5, 2023 14:29:06 GMT -6
30 September 2019, Somerset, England.
I fucking hate funerals. I cannot stress that enough. I make a very good point of not being any where near them if I can help it. The trick to that is keeping as few people close to me as possible, and refusing to be that person who goes to a funeral of that kid you knew in school and hung out with about three times. Today however is one of those days that I cannot avoid, this funeral is one I must attend. Today we attend the funeral of Alex Reid’s father, Paul. Arnold’s and Reid’s have stood side by side for a couple generations now, and Paul was as much of a father as my own was.
I walk outside the crematorium with my hands firmly in my pockets, and gently hanging on to my arm is Tammy St Claire. As is the norm at these points, nobody is saying anything and as always I can’t help but break the silence.
“I’m sorry that your first trip abroad has to be this.” I say softly, Tammy looks back at me like I’ve just committed a crime.
“Honey, today is not about me at all, and whilst I appreciate you saying that, its rather out of character for you to just offer that kind of apology up, are you okay?”
“Me? I’m absolutely fine. I know it’s out of character for me to-”
“Show care and emotion for others?”
“...Something like that, but you know my feelings about these events-”
“Funerals. This is a funeral, not an event.”
“Yes, funerals. I’m not a fan, and forgive me that I find it quite unfair that you are spending your first ever trip abroad having to attend a funeral. That’s not fair on you.”
“Fair? I’m pretty sure there are other people right now feeling that things are unfair. I am not one of those people! Besides, I’m here for another month, one day supporting our friend is going to be fine!”
I choose not to answer this. Perhaps I’m growing soft, but despite knowing she’s right I still wanted to give her a great trip. I don’t care if it’s five minutes, an hour or a day, I just wish we weren’t doing this.
At this point I stop look at Tammy and look back ahead of me and across the car park and see the piercing eyes of my ex-wife, Sharon. Whilst our relationship improved over the year, I know she can’t or won’t forgive me for what’s happened in the past. Given that my next move is definitely a strategic one.
“Hey Tam, can you go check in on Alex and Amy, I’m going to...deal with the scary eyes glaring at me over there.”
“The scary eyes…? Oh, gotcha. Yeah have fun with that!” Tammy pats my shoulder and obliges, turning one hundred and eighty and making a very hasty exit. That leaves me to do all I can do, speak to the ex...man I really hate funerals.
I walk over to Sharon slowly, her gaze hasn’t left me at any point. I can’t help but feel like a naughty schoolboy being brought before the angry headmaster. I approach her next to her car and she simply folds her arms, once again the silence kills me and in another act that may be deemed unwise, I again open my mouth to speak.
“Sharon, you’re looking angry.” Whilst being cocky may not be recommended at this moment, that’s the way I go.
“One day you’ll actually be able to say hello.” Is her sharp reply. “However despite you opening with a comment of an absolute ass, you’re correct, I am angry.”
“I’m going to assume that it has something to with me, it usually does so I’m playing probability.” There was a time that she would find this endearing, you’d think I’d remember that she no longer does. Her face sours some more.
“Why the hell are you going back to the ring?” Sharon growls, choosing to move on from the tit-for-tat that I was playing.
“Well, why not?” I shrug. “How did you know anyway?”
“No, don’t you start all the passive BS on me Rob, I want to know why you’re repeating history and suddenly going back to the ring out of nowhere."
“It’s something I needed to do.”
“Something you needed to do? Oh my god, it’s happening all over again, isn’t it? This is what happened before you left Sam and I and went underground for five years. You’re doing it all over again! I’m actually glad Tammy called me now so I can actually talk some sense into you!”
“Hold up. Tammy called you?” I turn around one hundred and eighty degrees and look at St Claire, who I’m pretty sure has worked out how this is all going down, she’s making every effort to not look back in my direction.”
“Yes, she called me, because she, like myself, was failing to understand what on earth had possessed you to go back into a match that you didn’t need to be in.”
“This is different.” I turn back around.
“Is it?”
“Yes. This is.”
“How?”
“Because this time it’s about duty, I have a duty to AXW to make sure whoever holds that World Title last truly deserves it. It’s not about me this time, or what I’m missing, it’s about duty. No different as to why I’m here today.”
“Yes, yes, I know you hate funerals.”
"Hate them so much...”
“You say all this though Rob, I have one question, because this didn’t occur to either of us last time around, what if it doesn’t go the way you want?”
I take a small step back and smile.
“Then either Draven or Caffrey truly deserves to be AXW Champion, and they’ll deserve to cash that in for the X*Crown.”
Sharon pauses, and looks me square in the eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I quite like her. So please mean that.”
I smirk and respond with a hug.
“Good to see you Sharon.”
“You are such a dick.” She sighs, knowing I refuse to give her straight answers.
“I know.” I step back and smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with Miss St Claire...Tammy!”
Tammy still doesn't look at me but mutters two simple words.
"Oh shit."
Welcome to the XHF Network
Your Video is Loading…
Scene up to a very isolated field in the middle of a gloomy day, quite prominently in the middle of the camera’s focus is an open grave, an empty, open grave.
“I hate funerals. Let’s be honest it sounds obvious, nobody likes them. That being said, I cannot stress enough how much I dislike them.”
The camera moves up and Rob Arnold walks into the scene, standing at the top of the open grave, his expression is more melancholy compared to his usual demeanour.
“Let’s be honest, a load of people turn up to them to say goodbye to somebody that they’ve likely not seen in months, perhaps years, sometimes decades. Random uncles, friends of friends, they all suddenly crawl out of the woodwork to say goodbyes that they feel obliged to make. They feel the need to make them out of what? Some form of guilt of not being there? The need to be forgiven?”
Rob shakes his head.
“You’re all expected to stand around and share cups of tea with people you barely know or like, talk nice about the friend or family member you’ve lost and honour their so called memory, or engage in other pointless conversations like when you die would like to be buried or cremated. But it’s all for show. The so called great memories fade in a short amount of time, your wound of losing the deceased goes away with time, and these people you’ve shared these moments with probably won’t be seen again because none of you never really meant it when you said ‘we should spend more time together’. It’s all postured bullshit.
A funeral is simply a celebration of a person who isn’t alive to acknowledge it. Given all of this, what’s the point?”
He sighs.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Lay Rest to the Wicked, and I’ve realised that this show is nothing more than a giant funeral. We have all of these people coming back and crawling out of the woodwork, ironically I see Sang-Hyun Lee is returning from the dead...again...to even be here. They’ll all come out and tell you as well how much AXW meant to them, how much it still means to them, but how many of them will hold the AXW memory in their hearts in three months time? How about in three years time?
Will they turn up and say ‘oh Rob, we must hang out more once this is all over’ and then proceed to never call me again? I mean, they may do, but me being me I have no interest in spending time with the majority of these people. These guys though, they’ll say it to each other I bet, and I bet that they then never see each other again. Will they tell you how much of a tragedy that it is that AXW is closing and they cannot believe its happening? You know it. I suspect that once it’s all over that many will all head to the nearest bar and get far too drunk, sing terrible songs that get played and say cliché lines like ‘gone too soon’ and screaming the lyrics to Don’t Stop Belivin’ when they’ve hit their fifth beer and it plays on the PA.”
Rob sneers.
“All of this, it is, ultimately, selfish. And I know, I know what you’re thinking, Rob Arnold, aren’t you doing exactly the same by being involved after over a year away? Perhaps I am, perhaps I am a hypocrite, perhaps I should have stayed on the sidelines or in the background.
I simply couldn’t though, for so many more reasons than just myself. As for the lip service? I won’t stand here in front of you and say it’s tragic that AXW is closing, because I don’t need to, I don’t need to satisfy my soul like that. Do I wish this wasn’t happening? Of course, but it is and you just have to put on your big boy pants and move on with it. I appreciate that it’s not going to be a popular opinion, but all things end, death and taxes and all that, and the most mature thing you can do is move forward as drama free as you can..”
Rob sighs, his arms now folding.
“I’ll admit however that one thing that Lay Rest to the Wicked won’t have in common with a funeral is that AXW will at least know how much it was appreciated. I say that because AXW is all of us, all of the people that ever got in the ring, all of the crews backstage making the show happen, and all of the fans that ever watched or attended. For once, something will die but know how much it was loved and revered. Even this heartless bastard can appreciate that.”
Rob takes a small moment, showing a rare, warm side to him.
“Anyway, all this death, all this depression and sadness, it made me consider one of my two opponents for this final AXW show, and that’s Vincent Draven. Vincent, you’re a man who I find most intriguing, though nothing I haven’t seen before. You present yourself as a man walking the line between the living and the dead, between the normal and paranormal. You go so far to call yourself a vampire.”
Rob pauses and smirks.
“Come on now man, really? I mean, sure, you may believe that’s what you are, but you are nothing more than a mere mortal. I’ve faced guys like you before. I’ve faced so called monsters, cyber goths, soul reapers, demons, and you know what they all have in common? They all still lost, because once you take away the visage and the mystery out of your appearance and personality they were nothing more than a man, and a man still bleeds, a man still can be broken. Just like those before you Vincent, you will bleed, you will be broken, of that I can be sure.
Don’t misunderstand this for arrogance now Vincent. You’re a talented competitor, one that I’ve watched since your arrival in AXW and I have been impressed. You know how to take a beating, you know how to give a beating, and you know how to plot and scheme into getting yourself a head start. Your recent beat down of Caffrey showed me that you’re not one to be taken lightly.
However, are you ready for the battle that is ahead of you? You’ve pissed off our champion, Anthony Caffrey to the point where he wants to probably break both of your ankles. As for me? Well, you seem to doubt me, and that is the worst thing you could do. I thrive on people’s doubt, I thrive when people think they’ve got me figured and I guess you do as well. You’re a keen follower of history from what I can see, go back and look me up, go look properly now Vincent, look for the blood, the bones I have broken, the confidence that I have crushed. Are you ready for all of that?”
Rob shrugs.
“For your sake I hope so. Otherwise Vincent, you will end up the wrong side of that line you walk. You’ll end up very much...dead.”
Rob stops himself briefly.
“Okay, perhaps that’s a bit strong. Please don’t think I’m not serious though, I do not rest, I do not stop. When you’re in the ring with me you going to wish you were dead because that will be fucking easier than the abuse you’ll be going through. And when you reach that point, you’ll be left with one very simple question…”
Rob looks off camera and nods, with that a number of pall bearers appear, carrying a coffin, and lower it into the grave. As they walk away, one bearer hands Rob something, though it isn’t clear to begin with.
“Burial?”
Arnold pulls a lighter from his pocket, and the item that was handed to him becomes a bit clearer, it is a small bottle with a rag coming out of it, a small Molotov Cocktail. Arnold lights it and chucks it into the grave, upon the impact the flames immediately rise out of there.
“Or cremation?”
Rob smirks once more and places his hands back in his pocket and leaves to the right. As he walks away the camera pans back down to the fiery grave, and the scene fades out.
I fucking hate funerals. I cannot stress that enough. I make a very good point of not being any where near them if I can help it. The trick to that is keeping as few people close to me as possible, and refusing to be that person who goes to a funeral of that kid you knew in school and hung out with about three times. Today however is one of those days that I cannot avoid, this funeral is one I must attend. Today we attend the funeral of Alex Reid’s father, Paul. Arnold’s and Reid’s have stood side by side for a couple generations now, and Paul was as much of a father as my own was.
I walk outside the crematorium with my hands firmly in my pockets, and gently hanging on to my arm is Tammy St Claire. As is the norm at these points, nobody is saying anything and as always I can’t help but break the silence.
“I’m sorry that your first trip abroad has to be this.” I say softly, Tammy looks back at me like I’ve just committed a crime.
“Honey, today is not about me at all, and whilst I appreciate you saying that, its rather out of character for you to just offer that kind of apology up, are you okay?”
“Me? I’m absolutely fine. I know it’s out of character for me to-”
“Show care and emotion for others?”
“...Something like that, but you know my feelings about these events-”
“Funerals. This is a funeral, not an event.”
“Yes, funerals. I’m not a fan, and forgive me that I find it quite unfair that you are spending your first ever trip abroad having to attend a funeral. That’s not fair on you.”
“Fair? I’m pretty sure there are other people right now feeling that things are unfair. I am not one of those people! Besides, I’m here for another month, one day supporting our friend is going to be fine!”
I choose not to answer this. Perhaps I’m growing soft, but despite knowing she’s right I still wanted to give her a great trip. I don’t care if it’s five minutes, an hour or a day, I just wish we weren’t doing this.
At this point I stop look at Tammy and look back ahead of me and across the car park and see the piercing eyes of my ex-wife, Sharon. Whilst our relationship improved over the year, I know she can’t or won’t forgive me for what’s happened in the past. Given that my next move is definitely a strategic one.
“Hey Tam, can you go check in on Alex and Amy, I’m going to...deal with the scary eyes glaring at me over there.”
“The scary eyes…? Oh, gotcha. Yeah have fun with that!” Tammy pats my shoulder and obliges, turning one hundred and eighty and making a very hasty exit. That leaves me to do all I can do, speak to the ex...man I really hate funerals.
I walk over to Sharon slowly, her gaze hasn’t left me at any point. I can’t help but feel like a naughty schoolboy being brought before the angry headmaster. I approach her next to her car and she simply folds her arms, once again the silence kills me and in another act that may be deemed unwise, I again open my mouth to speak.
“Sharon, you’re looking angry.” Whilst being cocky may not be recommended at this moment, that’s the way I go.
“One day you’ll actually be able to say hello.” Is her sharp reply. “However despite you opening with a comment of an absolute ass, you’re correct, I am angry.”
“I’m going to assume that it has something to with me, it usually does so I’m playing probability.” There was a time that she would find this endearing, you’d think I’d remember that she no longer does. Her face sours some more.
“Why the hell are you going back to the ring?” Sharon growls, choosing to move on from the tit-for-tat that I was playing.
“Well, why not?” I shrug. “How did you know anyway?”
“No, don’t you start all the passive BS on me Rob, I want to know why you’re repeating history and suddenly going back to the ring out of nowhere."
“It’s something I needed to do.”
“Something you needed to do? Oh my god, it’s happening all over again, isn’t it? This is what happened before you left Sam and I and went underground for five years. You’re doing it all over again! I’m actually glad Tammy called me now so I can actually talk some sense into you!”
“Hold up. Tammy called you?” I turn around one hundred and eighty degrees and look at St Claire, who I’m pretty sure has worked out how this is all going down, she’s making every effort to not look back in my direction.”
“Yes, she called me, because she, like myself, was failing to understand what on earth had possessed you to go back into a match that you didn’t need to be in.”
“This is different.” I turn back around.
“Is it?”
“Yes. This is.”
“How?”
“Because this time it’s about duty, I have a duty to AXW to make sure whoever holds that World Title last truly deserves it. It’s not about me this time, or what I’m missing, it’s about duty. No different as to why I’m here today.”
“Yes, yes, I know you hate funerals.”
"Hate them so much...”
“You say all this though Rob, I have one question, because this didn’t occur to either of us last time around, what if it doesn’t go the way you want?”
I take a small step back and smile.
“Then either Draven or Caffrey truly deserves to be AXW Champion, and they’ll deserve to cash that in for the X*Crown.”
Sharon pauses, and looks me square in the eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I quite like her. So please mean that.”
I smirk and respond with a hug.
“Good to see you Sharon.”
“You are such a dick.” She sighs, knowing I refuse to give her straight answers.
“I know.” I step back and smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with Miss St Claire...Tammy!”
Tammy still doesn't look at me but mutters two simple words.
"Oh shit."
Welcome to the XHF Network
Your Video is Loading…
Scene up to a very isolated field in the middle of a gloomy day, quite prominently in the middle of the camera’s focus is an open grave, an empty, open grave.
“I hate funerals. Let’s be honest it sounds obvious, nobody likes them. That being said, I cannot stress enough how much I dislike them.”
The camera moves up and Rob Arnold walks into the scene, standing at the top of the open grave, his expression is more melancholy compared to his usual demeanour.
“Let’s be honest, a load of people turn up to them to say goodbye to somebody that they’ve likely not seen in months, perhaps years, sometimes decades. Random uncles, friends of friends, they all suddenly crawl out of the woodwork to say goodbyes that they feel obliged to make. They feel the need to make them out of what? Some form of guilt of not being there? The need to be forgiven?”
Rob shakes his head.
“You’re all expected to stand around and share cups of tea with people you barely know or like, talk nice about the friend or family member you’ve lost and honour their so called memory, or engage in other pointless conversations like when you die would like to be buried or cremated. But it’s all for show. The so called great memories fade in a short amount of time, your wound of losing the deceased goes away with time, and these people you’ve shared these moments with probably won’t be seen again because none of you never really meant it when you said ‘we should spend more time together’. It’s all postured bullshit.
A funeral is simply a celebration of a person who isn’t alive to acknowledge it. Given all of this, what’s the point?”
He sighs.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Lay Rest to the Wicked, and I’ve realised that this show is nothing more than a giant funeral. We have all of these people coming back and crawling out of the woodwork, ironically I see Sang-Hyun Lee is returning from the dead...again...to even be here. They’ll all come out and tell you as well how much AXW meant to them, how much it still means to them, but how many of them will hold the AXW memory in their hearts in three months time? How about in three years time?
Will they turn up and say ‘oh Rob, we must hang out more once this is all over’ and then proceed to never call me again? I mean, they may do, but me being me I have no interest in spending time with the majority of these people. These guys though, they’ll say it to each other I bet, and I bet that they then never see each other again. Will they tell you how much of a tragedy that it is that AXW is closing and they cannot believe its happening? You know it. I suspect that once it’s all over that many will all head to the nearest bar and get far too drunk, sing terrible songs that get played and say cliché lines like ‘gone too soon’ and screaming the lyrics to Don’t Stop Belivin’ when they’ve hit their fifth beer and it plays on the PA.”
Rob sneers.
“All of this, it is, ultimately, selfish. And I know, I know what you’re thinking, Rob Arnold, aren’t you doing exactly the same by being involved after over a year away? Perhaps I am, perhaps I am a hypocrite, perhaps I should have stayed on the sidelines or in the background.
I simply couldn’t though, for so many more reasons than just myself. As for the lip service? I won’t stand here in front of you and say it’s tragic that AXW is closing, because I don’t need to, I don’t need to satisfy my soul like that. Do I wish this wasn’t happening? Of course, but it is and you just have to put on your big boy pants and move on with it. I appreciate that it’s not going to be a popular opinion, but all things end, death and taxes and all that, and the most mature thing you can do is move forward as drama free as you can..”
Rob sighs, his arms now folding.
“I’ll admit however that one thing that Lay Rest to the Wicked won’t have in common with a funeral is that AXW will at least know how much it was appreciated. I say that because AXW is all of us, all of the people that ever got in the ring, all of the crews backstage making the show happen, and all of the fans that ever watched or attended. For once, something will die but know how much it was loved and revered. Even this heartless bastard can appreciate that.”
Rob takes a small moment, showing a rare, warm side to him.
“Anyway, all this death, all this depression and sadness, it made me consider one of my two opponents for this final AXW show, and that’s Vincent Draven. Vincent, you’re a man who I find most intriguing, though nothing I haven’t seen before. You present yourself as a man walking the line between the living and the dead, between the normal and paranormal. You go so far to call yourself a vampire.”
Rob pauses and smirks.
“Come on now man, really? I mean, sure, you may believe that’s what you are, but you are nothing more than a mere mortal. I’ve faced guys like you before. I’ve faced so called monsters, cyber goths, soul reapers, demons, and you know what they all have in common? They all still lost, because once you take away the visage and the mystery out of your appearance and personality they were nothing more than a man, and a man still bleeds, a man still can be broken. Just like those before you Vincent, you will bleed, you will be broken, of that I can be sure.
Don’t misunderstand this for arrogance now Vincent. You’re a talented competitor, one that I’ve watched since your arrival in AXW and I have been impressed. You know how to take a beating, you know how to give a beating, and you know how to plot and scheme into getting yourself a head start. Your recent beat down of Caffrey showed me that you’re not one to be taken lightly.
However, are you ready for the battle that is ahead of you? You’ve pissed off our champion, Anthony Caffrey to the point where he wants to probably break both of your ankles. As for me? Well, you seem to doubt me, and that is the worst thing you could do. I thrive on people’s doubt, I thrive when people think they’ve got me figured and I guess you do as well. You’re a keen follower of history from what I can see, go back and look me up, go look properly now Vincent, look for the blood, the bones I have broken, the confidence that I have crushed. Are you ready for all of that?”
Rob shrugs.
“For your sake I hope so. Otherwise Vincent, you will end up the wrong side of that line you walk. You’ll end up very much...dead.”
Rob stops himself briefly.
“Okay, perhaps that’s a bit strong. Please don’t think I’m not serious though, I do not rest, I do not stop. When you’re in the ring with me you going to wish you were dead because that will be fucking easier than the abuse you’ll be going through. And when you reach that point, you’ll be left with one very simple question…”
Rob looks off camera and nods, with that a number of pall bearers appear, carrying a coffin, and lower it into the grave. As they walk away, one bearer hands Rob something, though it isn’t clear to begin with.
“Burial?”
Arnold pulls a lighter from his pocket, and the item that was handed to him becomes a bit clearer, it is a small bottle with a rag coming out of it, a small Molotov Cocktail. Arnold lights it and chucks it into the grave, upon the impact the flames immediately rise out of there.
“Or cremation?”
Rob smirks once more and places his hands back in his pocket and leaves to the right. As he walks away the camera pans back down to the fiery grave, and the scene fades out.