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Big D · (10-17-2025)

"This can NOT be happening......."

Words I'd uttered countless times before; both in an XWF promo, over an XWF card.

Sometimes it was because the challenge of facing a certain someone was bound to be an extremely difficult task to overcome, while other times the "challenge" was nonexistent and not worth my time. The latter sounds cocky, but past results support the statement just as much as the former.

Other times I simply wasn't motivated, regardless of who I was facing, or what I was facing them FOR. Whether it be personal or for some sort of gold, if I wasn't feeling it, I wasn't feeling it. And that's not an excuse, or a slight at people I've faced in the past, it's just how it is. Sometimes you just. don't. want. to work. Other times your body just won't let you work...... to the best of your ability, at least.

None of those scenarios were the reason for my disbelief.

First and foremost, I'd never been challenged by Jigsaw before. I suppose if I had, I wouldn't have lived to face a second one. The charge of disrespecting the gift of life was not only a serious crime, but possibly a sin, as well. I hadn't tattooed my body, or pierced my skin(intentionally, at least). I loved my wife and stayed committed through all the temptations of the road. Whatever evidence this Punisher ripoff of a villain had on me, I couldn't imagine it being enough to put me away. Not without reasonable doubt, anyway.

Aside from Mr. Puzzle, I found myself the least excited I'd EVER been to receive a Title shot. I still wasn't sure how committed I was to making regular XWF appearances, and winning a Championship was bound to be more of an anchor than a sail in that regard. But if i was willing to steer this ship full speed ahead, then this is the perfect opportunity. The problem was: I just didn't know if I wanted to work.

As I stared at my phone, from the comfort of the couch I'd been wasting away on for months prior to my Relentless appearance, I noticed the clusterfuck of a Main Event, a Captains match to determine the Draft Order for War Games. The weight of my absence became more apparent as I read each name of my potential future teammate; other than Isaiah King, I wasn't familiar with ANYbody listed in the match(a pathetic statement, considering the Universal Champion was one of 'em). An even sadder fact? I knew the ref better than I did the competitors!

"I gotta smoke," I exhaled, almost sighing at the uncertainty in everything that came with my return.

As I leaned forward to roll my sorry excuse for a blunt, I thought about the opportunity at hand. Savage was the chance to prove to these sorry excuses for Captains that Big D deserves to be pick numero uno. Beating another potential Draft option was already big enough, but knocking them off for their gold would surely be worth AT LEAST Top 3 consideration.

"What belt is that, anyway?" I asked through a thick cloud of freshly lit 420 goodness. After zooming in for wayyyyyyyy longer than seemed necessary, I could finally make out the words "World Television Championship."

"Why the hell is there a giant X on the TV Title?!" I questioned, unsure as to how this belt wasn't Centurion's. Upon another puff or two, it finally hit me. "Ohhhhhhhhhh......... XWF, of course!" The realization could be equally attributed to the weed as much as my lack of ability to see it to begin with. Nevertheless, I found myself competing for the XWF Television Championship for yet another time in my career.

Through another puff of smoke, I rose to my feet and headed over to my bookcase of VHS tapes, a catalog of matches. From bangers like when me and Ned almost beat a pair of lesbians for the Tag Team Titles, to that time I wrestled an owl and incest sister; each tape an imprint of my impact on the business.

A chill went down my spine as I thought back to my match against Lacklan & Kenzi Grey, almost as if a ghostly hand had run it's cold dead finger down the cracked of my back. I never cared much for being a Tag Team Champion, in any organization, but never winning the belts with Ned was one of the biggest regrets of my XWF career; aside from winning the big one.

"You HAVE won the big one.......

A voice reminded me of my XWF World Title reign, though I was unclear whose it was. My own? A ghost of my past? My conscience trying to ease my mind of the troubles that haunted me?

I never became a wrestler to have rivalries, or even make friends. I didn't do it for the money, Lord knows I could've found a far less physically demanding job with a somewhat similar pay scale. No, the only reason I ever decided to do THIS for a living was one thing and one thing only: success.

And how did I measure that success?

Title reigns.

Championships.

Gold.

I spent a good portion of my career bragging about holding 3 belts simultaneously like it meant something, without even realizing my words were damaging my reputation. People could see those belts, everyone knew what they were. The lowest ranking Titles of a Fed who ripped it's name off of an even bigger one. I can't even claim most of the things I accomplished there because it makes me sound like a jackass saying "Not THAT WWF."

My entire time there was spent trying to prove I was worth a damn to a bunch of nobodies who didn't mean a damn to me. No matter what I did, it was never enough. When I went and proved I COULD be a World Champion, they laughed in my face and devalued me, once again. I had reached the pinnacle, at least the pinnacle I was allowed to achieve, and it still wasn't enough...........

"It's never enough."

Once again, a voice that definitely was NOT my own went in one ear and out the other. The sensation caused my entire body to tingle as if beginning the phenomenon of sleep paralysis.

"I realllllllly need to slow down on the smoke," I said with one last hit of the blizzle before putting it out in the ashtray on the TV stand beside me.

My finger ran down the spine of each VHS, examining the names on each and every tape. Barney Green. Zane Norrison. T.H.U.G.S. Each opponent a different style, story, and result as unique as the wrestle themself. I finally stopped on a particular one, my digit pressed hard against the three lettered name written boldly in black Sharpie: LUX.

"Yes, that IS an interesting one......"

I felt an icy palm touch my shoulder, causing me to jump forward whilst simultaneously turning around, ass first, into my bookcase. Tapes littered the floor, a few may or may not have concussed me on the way down, but that was the least of my worry. Standing before me was what could only be described as a stereotypical ghost, and by that I mean it looked like a person threw a bedsheet over themselves and pasted two black dots to the face.

"Who....... who the hell are you?!" I screamed, thinking it was a bad home invasion outfit(or maybe a good one since I couldn't tell who was beneath it).

"I........ am the Ghost of Championships Past!"

I chuckled. "Ghost of Championships Past? Alright, this is Charlie playing a trick, right? Did MeFisto come back to torture me one more time?" I reached forward to pull the sheet off, but the "ghost" backed up with its arms out.

"Dooooooooon't!" he declared with a ghoulish 'oooooooooo' on the Os. "If you remove the sheet, you will see the biiiiiiiiggest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and it'll make you extrEMELY jealous!"

I about burst into laughter, before coming to a chilling realization: whoever this was had literally backed through my coffee table without so much as a single disturbance to it or the contents above it. Giant schlong or not, this WAS indeed some sort of apparition.

"Am........ am I dead?"

"Not deeeeeead," he bellowed from what felt like really far away before whooshing right up in my face. "Just really, REALLLLLLY hiiiiiiiiiigh!"

"Oh thank God," I breathed a sigh of relief before picking up my half smoked blunt and relighting it. "What was that you were saying about my match with Lux?"

"It was interesting, no?"

"Sure," I said with a sarcastic nod. "If you like seeing people with concussions....." A slight pain on my head reminded me of my recent shots to the noggin. "Oh wait, nevermind."

The ghost put his palm up, slowly raising his hand. This gesture caused the LUX tape to float off the floor and up into my hand.

"This was one of the first matches you thought you could be somebody. Lux was clearly on her way to the top, and the TV Title was only a temporary placeholder for the gold she actually deserved."

"Yeah, I remember!" I barked, bitterly. "She whooped my ass and went on to do said bigger and better things!"

"Yes, but what if YOU'D been the one victorious on that particular night?"

A slight arrogance came over me. "I would've been the one to go on and make a name for myself. That would've been ME defending the Title 8 times and cashing in for a Universal Title shot!"

"Oh really?"

"Ain't no doubt in my mind," I whispered with the confidence of Uncle Rico.

"Oooooookay!" the ghost chortled before snapping his fingers.

*SNAP*

With a poof of non-THC filled smoke, I was transported into the front row of a wrestling match. The fans were going crazy as I turned my attention towards the action in the ring. To my amazement, I found myself looking right into the eyes of none other than me. It was the exact match the ghost and I had been discussing moments prior, and here I was witnessing it all over again.

"This is my favorite part!" he proclaimed with enthusiasm that matched that of the crowd.

It was right at the end. Just seconds after making eye contact with my past self, I watched as Lux delivered a devastating kick to the head that dropped me to a knee.

"I KNEW you had a concussion fetish!" I joked before remembering what happens next. "Well, you're gonna LOVE this......"

"Am I?"

Lux cocked her leg to finish me off with one last kick to the head, only this time I somehow managed to duck it!

"Wait, what?!"

The missed move causes Lux to lose her balance for a split second, allowing past me to pick her up from behind and connect with a massive Dan Slam!

1!

2!

3!

"No way!"

"Yes way! This is what it would've looked like had you won that night!"

The announcers were making the perfect call, the fans were hotter than I'd ever seen 'em; and I was standing tall in the ring as Lux left the arena in shame(considering all the dick jokes about me back then, how could she not?!).

"Wow, what a moment!"

"What a moment indeead.......... wanna see what happens on the next episode of Savage?"

"My first Title defense? Hellllllll yeah!"

"Ooooooookay," he damn near giggled while bringing his hands up to snap again. "As they say where I'm from: it's YOUR funeral......."

*SNAP*

We appeared in a different arena, this time on the entrance ramp looking down towards the ring. It appeared as if the match was already over, with the clear winner heading in our direction.

"Wait a second......... is that..........?"

"Barney Green? Yeeeeep."

My eyes wandered from the man to the shiny piece of hardware over his shoulder.

"That's the TV Title!"

"Nooooo," the ghost corrected with fright in his voice. "That's yourrrrrrrr Television Title!"

His words hit me like a brick wall. I looked past Barney to the pathetic soul lying in the ring, staring up at the lights for yet another time in his life.

"Management decided to give you what they THOUGHT would be a laxed first defense in order to build off the momentum from your upset over Lux but............." He took a moment to look at Barney standing between us atop the ramp, jumping with pride over his Championship victory. "...... you just couldn't do it. You let your Title win consume you, knocking Lux off her high horse became too much for your ego to control. And you became a one hit wonder; and not the good kind that gets played on the radio still, but the kind that fades with the decade, never to be heard again except by dying ears in nursing homes."

"And Lux? She bounced back from her fluke loss; without the Television Championship holding her back anymore, she'd not only be GIVEN a Universal Title shot, but would also win it much sooner than in your reality."

"Yeah, well, what about MY Universal Title victory?!" I barked out like a jealous child at Christmas, envying his sibling's new toy. "You got a reality where I actually BEAT Robert Main for the Championship that fateful Warfare?!"

"I dooooooo," he whistled with his fingers up to snap, once more. "But you're not gonna like what you see."

*SNAP*

Before I could confirm my decision, we appeared atop the Cell me, Robert Main, and Donovan Blackwater fought in some years back. As I peered down through the chain link openings, I could see myself standing over Donovan Blackwater with the Universal Championship hoisted high above my head.

"Notice anything?"

When I didnt answer, he pointed towards the corner of the Cell, where Robert Main just happened to be regaining consciousness. He pulled himself up by the apron skirt, where he slammed his fist against the mat upon seeing the result.

"You pinned Donovan Blackwater to win Robert Main's Championship; a truth that would hang over your head for the rest of your career........... especially when you add in the fact that ol' Robert beat you handedly one on one in the rematch."

"I don't understand your point."

"My POINT is: sometimes the way things happen are exactly the way they're supposed to be."

*SNAP*

We appear outside the ring of my TV Title defense against Noah Jackson, a Barbed Wire match. The ghost and I watched on as Noah continuously punched my head with razor wire wrapped around it. After a bunch of those, we see Ned Kaye go to grab a towel in order to throw it on my behalf.

"You weren't a BAD TV Champion........ and the way you lost it, well, you'd always have Ned to blame for that!"

"I remember this match clearly..... OOF!" I winced as my past self took one more brutal shot before my former friend could save me from any more CTE. "I was beat well before Ned ever threw in the towel."

"And I was a helluva match, too. You've had plenty of great matches, Championship or not........."

*SNAP*

With one final click of the fingers, we found ourselves back in my house, exactly where we were before disappearing. To my surprise, my video tapes were back neatly on their shelves as if I hadn't fallen into them.

"Your legacy is whatever you decide it is," the ghost reminded me with a friendly hand on the shoulder. "At the end of the day, your name is etched into the upper echelon of XWF for many things......... good AND bad; but you know what? That's okay."

I looked down for a moment, deep in thought. My whole career I'd tried getting everyone's attention in order to fulfill some sort of self worth. If I don't have the biggest, shiniest gold, nobody will notice me. If I don't beat the biggest, baddest competitors, no one will respect me. Well, the fact of the matter was I HAD some of the shinier pieces of gold, and DID beat some of the best the business had to offer, HANDFULS of former World and Universal Champions, but I still didn't have the respect. And I didn't need it, so long as I was satisfied in everything I'd accomplished.

And I was.

"Thanks," I said with an appreciative smile, looking up at my spirit guide.......... only for him to be done. After staring at the empty air for a few moments, a burning sensation at the tips of my finger and thumb reminded me I still had a lit blunt in my hand. With a shake of the head, I put it back out and swore not to smoke again; 'til after my match, anyway.

"Dickie Watson...... I don't believe we've had the pleasure, as a matter of fact, I KNOW we haven't had the pleasure, as I had no idea whether you were a man or woman. Not that it matters, I've won and lost to my fair share of both. And a few in-betweeners. A quick Google search gave me all the answers I needed; and I do mean ALL the answers!"

"Been around less than a year and already having, to quote Borat, great success! Sorta just came out of nowhere. The best usually do; and you sir have proven that you're more than capable of hanging among 'em by winning that belt of yours! But is it enough?"

"You and I, we're not much different. We both put another of stock into the Titles we hold, and I blame that on society. Nobody cares about the #1 Contender if that's all they ever accomplish. People don't list how many times they got Championship shots in their profiles, the only thing that matters is gold. You can be the most exciting wrestler on the roster, but if you don't have the achievements to back it up, then you're nothing more than a flashy loser."

"We took that to heart......... we took that to heart, and it's a damn shame! I don't send emails with just my name at the bottom, I list EVERY SINGLE thing I did in this business. Hell, I brag about winning a God damn fishing contest! And why shouldn't I? I couldn't beat Thunder Knuckles, but I sure caught one helluva fish! THIS is what society made us!"

"And it's a shame, because we ARE good; or at least I know I am. You're on the precipous, Dickie, a position I've been in a time or two, as well, a spot greater men than myself have taken advantage of. I just stared into the face of an alleged ghost of my past, but do you wanna know who the REAL ghost is, Mr. Watson?"

"It's you."

"I feel like I'm looking in a mirror, a younger version of myself. A kid trying to prove to everyone else he's got what it takes without even bothering to ask if HE'S satisfied with himself? Well, you should be. XWF is NOT easy territory to navigate, yet here you are, one of the 'tour guides' leading the rest of us on this journey."

"I want you to remember that when I take your Title, Dickie, because I'm not yanking you off the ladder on my ascension back up, I'm giving you a boost! There are bigger, better things in your future, as has been the case with many other former Champions. I've held the TV Title, I've been Xtreme Champion; bought a Title shot for fake currency, and Captained a winning War Games team despite being eliminated early! And you know what? I'm proud of every single one of them ALL the same. Because it doesn't matter what you do in other people's eyes, if you aren't satisfied in your own mind, then what the hell's the point?!"

"That said, a win will give me 3 TV Title reigns, tying me for most in XWF history. And while most other people might scoff at such an 'achievement,' I myself will be popping open a champagne bottle, spraying the contents everywhere, and then cracking a Bud heavy to celebrate my own personal Super Bowl........ oh, sorry, 'Big Game.'"

"As for Dickie Watson....... I suspect a War Games victory(quite possibly on my side), before going on to do the one thing I never could: win the Universal Championship. So keep your chin up, because sometimes a loss can be a win in the long run. And never forget this: Jigsaw may like to play games, but Big D does NOT."

"And that ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth!"

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