James Shark [vs] Brandon Macdonald

I grinned slightly as I put my hands on my head. SWAT members rushed into the ring and grabbed my hands, forcing them down behind my back and throwing them in handcuffs. I really offered no resistance. I was exhausted from the match, bloody, bruised, and battered. They forced me down through the ropes as the crowd booed loudly. I looked around at everyone who was surrounding me. SWAT team members, FBI agents, DEA agents, and local police. The entire crew was there, just for me. It was almost surreal. I could hear an FBI agent saying something to me, but the crowd was so loud that I couldn’t hear a single thing he said. I didn’t need to though. I knew exactly what he was saying to me. A riot team was running out beside us now as fans were storming the ring and trying to get to me. I didn’t know if they wanted to kill me or to save me. It didn’t matter. All of this had to happen.

I knew this was going to happen from the start. I had planned for this to happen. And so far everything was going completely as planned. The team led me backstage, where the entire IWF roster stood, watching me as I was walked through the hallways. A look of shock was on the face of pretty much everyone. Maybe a few people had suspected me of something, but nothing this big. I smiled at all the wrestlers, men and women, who were staring at me. The team of people escorting me out cleared everyone out of the way as I was ushered past everyone and into an empty hallway. I was pushed through an open doorway, and shoved into the back of an open FBI van, before the doors were quickly slammed shut. I could feel the car pulling away quickly, and I could hear other cars doing the same.

I looked around the back of the van. Two guards sat there in full tactical gear, while the lead FBI Agent Jones sat across from me.

Agent Jones: “How does it feel to only last a few days as Chapo’s replacement? That’s got to be a new record”

I just grinned at him and closed my eyes. I tried to work myself into a state of peace. My mind had been numb for days, and I didn’t think it was going to go away for the rest of my life. I would always feel this cold, this empty, this emotionless. And that is exactly what I needed to feel.

I just closed my eyes, and waited for the signal.




I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, as I tried to adjust to the bright light shining down on my face. I tried to sit up but found that I was covered in a blanket and there were bars on the side of my bed. Oh great, a hospital. I managed to sit up and look around. Only one person was in the room, and I immediately regretted sitting up.

Karly.

She looked at me with a sad smile on her face. I knew this was going to happen too. I had been putting off telling Karly about my drug dealing involvement for months now, hoping that I would never have to tell her. All that changed the other night, or maybe it was a few nights ago.

We were just sitting in our house, talking about going on vacation to my old island in Belize. Playing with my son, Karly sitting on the couch watching. It was just a normal day, until the door slammed open and ten men burst into our house. Two men immediately walked over to Karly, guns pointed at her, telling her not to move. The other eight men walked over to me and immediately started beating on me. I tried fighting back as best I could. But eight men were too much for me. Nothing I did affected anything, and pretty soon I was teetering on the edge of consciousness. But I was awake long enough to see Nacho walk in to my house, his steel toed boots clacking with each step.

I looked up at him, as he smiled and bent over next to me. He grabbed my chin and held it up close to his head as he went to speak to my face. I can still remember the words that he said to me. They rang in my head over and over, repeating in my ears.

Nacho: “Next time you go against us, we’ll tear your whole world apart”

I looked up as he reared his foot back, before driving the steel toe right into my jaw. As the boot came closer to my face, all I could think about was how I was going to explain this to Karly. Then the steel made contact with my jaw, and I blacked out.

And now I was here. In the hospital. And Karly was standing right over top of me, looking at me.

Karly: “Thank god you’re ok”

Brandon: “Just a little sore, but I’ll be fine”

Karly: “Good. Now talk”

Almost instantly Karly’s face turned from concern to anger.

Brandon: “About what?”

Karly: “Don’t be retarded. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why the fuck would ten Mexican’s bust into our house and beat you nearly to death, and then leave as if nothing happened. What the hell have you gotten into Brandon?”

I sighed. I had to tell her. I couldn’t lie about this, not anymore.

Brandon: “Look…I wanted to tell you…but I just couldn’t figure out a way, and I really was going to do it, but now, I don’t know…”

Karly: “Are you back into drugs or some shit?”

Brandon: “Remember how I took all those business trips for IWF, and how I was always working for them? Well that wasn’t one hundred percent true.”

Karly: “Brandon, you need to come clean right fucking now. For your sake”

Brandon: “I’m a fucking drug dealer ok Karly? I’m working for the Sinaloa Cartel in Mexico. Anna and I run the American operations for the cartel. I started last December, and that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. I used my IWF job as a front to distribute mass amounts of meth and heroin and cocaine and pretty much every drug you can imagine. Last week Anna and I went down to Mexico and I shot two kids who were working for the DEA instead of her, and now they’re pissed off because I did something against what they wanted. Anything else you need to hear?”

Karly wiped a tear from her eye and sniffled a little bit. She immediately turned around and grabbed her coat. She began to walk towards the door, without even so much as saying a word to me. I couldn’t believe she had nothing to say.

Brandon: “Where are you going?”

Karly: “Not home. I don’t know. Anywhere. Away from you”

Brandon: “What is that supposed to mean?”

Karly turned back to look at me. I could see the tears in her eyes. I could see how sad she looked.

Karly: “What do you think it’s supposed to mean? Brandon, you’re a father. You’re a husband. You don’t need this. I don’t know why you decided to get into this, and I don’t want to know either. But I can’t believe it. You put yourself in danger, you put your whole family in danger! How can I be with you, knowing that at any moment, people could bust down our door again and beat the shit out of you? And what if next time, they don’t beat you up, they just shoot you?! I can’t deal with this Brandon. I can’t deal with you”

Brandon: “I did this for us! We had nothing when I started this. I had no job, we were paying off my medical bills, we were trying to support James as well as each other. We lost all our money after Anna and Gianni ran away in case you forgot. We had nothing! We needed the money. Our lives were spent in wealth, it’s not easy to suddenly adjust to regular life. I know you were having just as hard a time as I was.”

Karly: “That doesn’t fucking matter! Brandon we would have figured something out. You could have gotten a job doing anything else and I would have been happy. We could have adjusted to less money. You didn’t need to get involved in a drug gang!”

Brandon: “I’m sorry Karly, I really did this for the family. I wanted us to be well off, I wanted us to be able to raise our son the best we could. I didn’t ever mean for this to get this far and this bad”

Karly: “Well it got this bad! And it’s not going to stop! I can’t be with you Brandon, I just can’t do it. Unless you somehow get out of this, we can’t be together”

Brandon: “You don’t mean that…”

Karly: “I do mean that! I can’t let you put me or our son in danger. I love you Brandon, so much. But if you’re in this, I don’t want any part of this. You can’t fucking put me and our son in a place like this. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I was getting angry with Karly, but at the same time, she was right, and I knew it. I had put my wife and my son in danger, and I did it all just so that we could have money. It was wrong, but I did it, and now I had to live with it. And Karly was right. I couldn’t put her in danger like I was, being with her. I had to deal with this first. And I planned on dealing with this.

Brandon: “Look. You’re right. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done any of this. You have every right to hate me for it. But I did it, and we’re here now. I’m going to fix this. I promise you Karly. I’m going to fix this, and everything will go back to the way it was before”

Karly: “I really hope you do. But until then, I can’t be around you Brandon. I can’t have James around you. You have to go, I can’t have you at the house. I love you Brandon, but I can’t fucking do this.”

Karly walked over to me and kissed me once, before immediately turning away and walking out of the hospital room before I could even say a word. But I had nothing else to say. Fuck this. I literally had no feelings. What was happening to me? I should feel sad, and lonely, and pissed, but really I just felt empty. It was weird. It was like a piece of me had just left.  In a way, I guess it had. I wiped my eyes. I guess I had been crying a little bit, but I couldn’t even tell.

I didn’t even have more than five minutes to process Karly just straight up leaving me, before three men in suits walked into my room. Two of them immediately stayed at the door as the third man closed it and walked over to me. He sat down beside me and looked up at me.

Agent Jones: “Mr. Macdonald, I’m Agent Jones, with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened here”

Brandon: “Ok?”

Agent Jones: “How did this happen?”

Brandon: “I was in my house, and I heard something in my kitchen. I walked in, and saw three men in masks walking around. I ran at them, but they got the jump on me, and beat me like this. That’s all I remember”

Agent Jones: “Are you affiliated with any gangs or drug cartels or anything of the sort?”

Brandon: “Nope. I knew the Giordano family, but that was it”

Agent Jones: “You’re not associated with the Sinaloa Cartel at all?”

Brandon: “Never heard of them”

Agent Jones: “So if I were to tell you that two young men of ours were shot in the head last week in Tijuana, after being discovered by the Sinaloa’s, that would surprise you?”

Brandon: “That would indeed be news to me”

This guy obviously knew I was part of it, but clearly didn’t have enough to charge me with anything. I wasn’t going to give him anything. I expected a lot of police talk when I started this, and I actually had a few conversations before. So I knew how to deal with them.

Agent Jones: “I’ll cut the shit. I think you’re part of the Sinaloa Cartel Brandon. I think you got attacked by members of the Cartel last night. I think you killed those kids last week, and that’s why they’re coming after you. I think this all comes back to you Brandon”

Brandon: “Well that’s a nice fun thing to think isn’t it?”

Agent Jones: “Save yourself the trouble and just help us out Brandon. We’re going to nail all of you eventually, regardless of whether or not you help us out.”

Brandon: “I think I’ll pass on that. Are we done here? I’d like to be done here”

Agent Jones stood up and looked down at me.

Agent Jones: “If they’re after you Brandon, it’s only a matter of time before they find you. And mark my words, they will kill you”

Brandon: “Well I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree then won’t we?”

The Agent shook his head at me angrily, before walking out of the room and bringing his two guards with him. I let out a sigh of relief. I figured that Nacho would allow the feds to find those two bodies. I knew he’d put enough information out there for the feds to suspect me, but not actually be able to arrest me. It was a scare tactic. He wanted me to be afraid, to come grovelling back to the cartel, begging for forgiveness. That wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to let them push me around like that. I was going after the cartel, and I knew exactly how. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table, and began placing some calls.




Anna: “Jesus Brandon, I thought you said we were safe?!”

I had just finished explaining everything that had happened in the last two days to Anna. My beating, the feds, everything. She took it a lot better than Karly did, but that was obvious. I still hadn’t talked to Karly since she left earlier this morning. I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. I thought about stopping by the house, but I respected her wishes. I knew that I had done wrong, and I had to fix it. So I went to Anna’s apartment, one she only stayed at occasionally.

Brandon: “We are safe, this is just a minor drawback, that’s all.”

Anna: “Brandon they almost beat you to death. I think that’s a little more than a minor drawback”

Brandon: “I guess so. But I’ve got a plan to get them back. They can’t just push us around like this. Maybe some low level Mexican dealer, but I refused to be intimidated by them. Can I count on you to help me out?”

Anna: “I don’t know Brandon. I don’t want to get in too deep here. I just want them to leave us alone, I want things to go back to normal!”

Brandon: “Anna, listen to me. Things will never be back to normal until we do this. You’ll never see Gianni again, I’ll never see Karly or my son again. We’ll never have our normal lives back unless we take the fight to them. These guys have never been pushed around before, everyone is always too scared. We’re the perfect people to do this. I’m a public figure; they’ll never touch me unless they have a perfect chance. It would draw far too much attention to them. I know exactly what to do to get their attention. I just need your help”

Anna looked at me and sighed deeply. I knew she was going to help me, even though she didn’t want to. I think she was starting to realize that I was right. We were so far in that we were never going to get out, unless we pulled off something crazy like this.

Anna: “Fine. But I’m not killing anybody or anything”

Brandon: “You don’t have to. All you have to do is talk”




I sat in the back of an old pickup truck, dressed in my full military gear, along with three other members of one of my old Task Forces. They were the guys I had called up to help me fight back against the cartel. These guys were the best of the best, but had recently been decommissioned and paid a large salary by the US Government, basically to keep quiet. But I knew all of them too well. They were itching to get back into some kind of military line of work. So when I asked them for help taking down a drug cartel, they agreed in seconds. It wasn’t going to be easy, and I didn’t expect to really be able to take it down. I had to tell these guys something that wouldn’t reveal that I was actually working for the cartel. All I needed was their help to send a little message.

I looked out from underneath a tarp that covered us, over at a large eighteen wheeler, parked in a storage unit access doors. I knew it was one of our trucks, and I knew that it was making a large exchange. A one hundred and thirty six million dollar exchange to be exact. And we were going to take that money.

It started with Anna. She wasn’t the one making the deal, but she was well known enough with the dealers that she could walk up and give them information, and they would listen. All she had to do was tell them that the original route had been compromised, and give them an alternate route to get to Mexico, one that we had set out beforehand. I only prayed that the cartel hadn’t been able to warn anyone of what Anna might do. But as far as they were concerned, I was back on their side after their warning. So they wouldn’t suspect anything like this to happen.

We would follow them at a distance, until they were alone on the deserted highway that we were taking them too. Then, we’d attack. Other members of my team were already lying in wait, snipers at the ready, prepared to take down any and all guards that were travelling with the truck. Usually it was only two cars, both with three men in each of them. We’d take the truck by force, steal all the money, then blow the truck up. It was almost too easy. This is what they deserved for doing these deals in broad daylight like this.

I looked up across the street as the truck slowly began to pull away from the storage unit. I waited until I saw Anna emerge from inside, and adjust a hat she was wearing. That was the signal that meant everything had gone to plan. The route was changed. It was just that easy to steal from the biggest drug cartel in the world. We waited for a few minutes as two cars slowly started and followed the truck. After they were out of sight, I rapped on the truck’s window, and we began to slowly pull away. I sat there as we drove around the streets of Palm Springs, and into the desert, following the truck at a distance. I threw the tarp off the back of the pickup truck, and looked around. Not a single car in sight, except for the truck ahead of us. I could see the two guard cars driving in front of it. We only had a brief time before those cars got suspicious and came after us. And I knew that they were taught to shoot first, and ask questions never. The longer we took, the less time we had before we’d be shot at.

As we passed a road sign that we had set up for a checkpoint earlier, I knew the time was now. I loaded up my gun and made sure it was ready to go. I raised my hand in the air with a closed fist as we sped up past the truck. I heard the tires of the transport truck pop, and I knew the snipers had done their job. We sped past the truck and in front of the two cars. I immediately kicked down the back of the pickup truck and started shooting at both cars.

The one car veered away as I had clearly hit the driver. It flew off the road and crashed into a ditch. The other car veered hard to the right and suddenly flipped into the air, rolling on the road until it came to a crashing stop and exploded. That was almost too easy.

I watched as the transport truck with no tires left slowly come to a halt. I stood up and waited for the two men in the truck to exit. As soon as they did, I saw them both drop without me having to even fire a shot. Man my guys were good.

Brandon: “Alright guys, let’s make this fast”

We quickly ran to the back of the truck and shot the lock off of it. The trucks weren’t that secure, as the cartel figured nobody would even attempt to break into one. We opened the doors and hopped inside. Immediately we all started grabbing the stacks of money, and tossing them into the back of the pickup. As we were doing that, one of my guys was busy rigging the engine with explosives. Another truck pulled up beside us, and we quickly filled it with the rest of the money. It really was just that easy. Everyone hopped down and quickly got into one of the trucks, and we sped off. After a safe distance, I pressed a button on a remote control.

BOOM

The shockwave from the explosion shook our car, as the truck flew into the air before landing in a flaming heap. I smiled as I watched it slowly burn, flames darting off randomly. This would be quite the surprise for Nacho and the rest of the cartel. I don’t care how powerful they were, how much control they had, any of that. They had no power over me, and they had no control over me. My job here was done. Hopefully now the cartel knew better than to fuck with me like that. No more beating me in my own house, in front of my own kids. I looked at my watch. Fuck. I had a plane to catch.




I walked backstage in the Chesapeake Energy Arena and grinned at everyone standing around watching. Man it’s been a while since I had any kind of fun like this. Not only had I not heard from Nacho or anyone in the Sinaloa cartel in two weeks, but I was wrestling again. Well, aside from my return match at Ragnarok, I hadn’t actually wrestled anyone. But I had just refereed a fun match with James Shark and Flex Johnson. I tried to be as impartial as I could, but I had to have some fun at Shark’s expense.

Shark and I were in a really weird relationship. We were close friends sometimes, but other times it was like we were enemies. I was married to his ex-wife. We shared custody of one of his kids. I think the best way to describe it was that we were friends outside of the ring, but inside the ring, we had no friends, we had no enemies. We just did whatever we needed to do to get ahead. And right now, as we prepared for a match against each other, we could not be friends. But I couldn’t resist that little attack after his match tonight. After all, Shark would have done the same thing to me if he had the chance. He would understand why I did it. Just a little thing to get into his head before our match on Sunday.

I walked towards my private locker room and walked inside. Anna sat there on her laptop, messing around with something as I walked in. Anna looked up at me and grinned.

Anna: “Nice and sweaty are we?”

Brandon: “I’m surprised, I didn’t do that much. Those referee shirts are fucking stuffy”

Anna: “Nice attack on Shark by the way, I’m sure he’s going to love that”

Brandon: “Shark’s a big boy, he can handle that. I had to do something, he was just standing there”

Anna: “Yeah I would have done the same thing”

Suddenly, the power in the locker room surged, before going out completely. The entire room was lit only by the glow of the computer screen.

Brandon: “What did you do?!”

Anna: “I didn’t do shit, the power went out you moron”

I stood up and walked over to the door, using my phone as a light. I looked into the hallway, which was just as dark as my locker room. I yelled at one of the backstage guys if he knew what happened, and he responded with uncertainty. I closed the door and walked back into my locker room, sitting down beside Anna, looking at her computer.

Brandon: “Lucky we made it through the entire show without the power going out”

Anna: “Yeah no kidding. Ugh I’ve been remixing one of your songs all night and it’s just not going well. I think something’s wrong with my computer, things keep randomly shutting down and stuff”

I looked at her computer. It was a little fuzzier than normal, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Except for a little thing in the top corner of the screen. A small icon that said ‘Click Me’. I pointed it out to Anna.

Brandon: “I assume this is something new?”

Anna: “Wow, I didn’t see that at all. Good eyes. Should I click on it?”

Brandon: “You have a good antivirus on there right?”

Anna: “Yeah it’s brand new, never had a virus before or anything”

Brandon: “Then yeah, go for it. I’d click it.”

Anna moved the mouse over and clicked on it. Immediately a screen popped up on it. I tried to make out what was going on, but it was dark. Suddenly, a light flicked on in whatever room the other camera was set in. I could see a man tied up to a chair, covered in blood, with a few men standing beside him in military wear. It took me a few seconds to realize who the man in the chair was, but once I did, I realized it was only about a second until Anna realized it. Once I heard her gasp and cover her mouth, I knew that she could see.

Anna’s husband Gianni sat tied up to a chair, with members of what I assumed was the Sinaloa cartel standing beside him. I watched in horror as two men walked on the screen and turned around. One was Nacho, smiling at me. The other was a face that I had never actually seen in person or even on a live camera before. But his face was beyond recognizable. If he was there, then this was bad.

Joaquin Guzman, or El Chapo as he was known to all. The most powerful drug trafficker in the entire world. The leader of the Sinaloa Cartel. Standing beside his son, with Anna’s husband in the background. This was bad. This was so bad.

El Chapo: “Well well well, I guess we’ve finally gotten ahold of you two”

He spoke with a slight Mexican accent, but you could tell that he knew English very well. Even his voice was terrifying. Literally everything about this man was horrific. I looked over at Anna. There was no way that she would be doing any talking tonight. Her eyes were fixated on her husband in the background of the two men. I had to talk to them.

Brandon: “What do you want from us?”

El Chapo: “All I ever wanted was your cooperation. You just had to do what we asked of you, and nothing would have happened. But you had to go and butt in Brandon. All you had to do was let Mrs. Girodano here shoot those two feds, and nothing would have happened.”

Brandon: “You knew she wasn’t going to shoot them .We all knew that. It was a loaded order”

El Chapo: “Everyone has a choice, nothing is an order. I thought I made that clear when I sent Nacho and others to beat that message into you. But apparently, you never learn.”

Brandon: “You beat me in my own house, in front of my wife and son!”

El Chapo: “To teach you a lesson! You are not bigger than this empire. Nobody is! If my son refused an order from me, I would have the same done to him. You must learn your place. This is my empire, and we do as me or my associates say. You don’t question them. You just do as you’re told. And now I’m telling you something else. Give me back my money.”

Brandon: “What money?”

El Chapo: “You don’t want to act the fool around me Macdonald. I could destroy your entire world in an instant. I am aware that you stole the money from one of our larger deliveries. I need that money Brandon. You know this as well as I do”

Brandon: “I don’t have your money anymore. It’s all gone.”

El Chapo: “Then I guess I’ll have to go to plan B”

I watched as El Chapo reached for something off screen. When he pulled it back on screen, I could hear Anna scream in horror. El Chapo held a chainsaw in his hand, and ripped on the cord to start it up. It was loud, and he had to shout over it. Nacho held Gianni’s head up high, exposing his neck. I was amazed at how expressionless he was. By all accounts, he should be terrified, but he seemed oddly calm. Perhaps he was prepared for this. I wasn’t, and I could tell that Anna wasn’t at all.

El Chapo: “You promise to give me the money back by tonight, or Mrs. Giordano can go back to Ms. Stone. You have one minute to decide”

He turned off the chainsaw and looked at the camera. I looked over at Anna. She was staring in horror at the screen, not sure what to make of any of this. I didn’t want to give them the money back. But this was Anna’s husband. This was her decision, not mine.

Brandon: “Anna, this is your decision. I will give back all the money to save Gianni”

Anna didn’t even look like she was acknowledging me. She was just staring at Gianni, who in turn was staring back at her. I assumed that they had hacked into Anna’s webcam at the same time as her computer. So they could probably see both of us.

Anna: “What happened to you Gianni? What happened?”

Gianni just stared straight ahead, not even making any indication that he had even heard what Anna had said. I knew they had sound. He just wasn’t listening or didn’t care.

Anna: “You fucking changed! Everything about you was different from the moment your dad died. I loved you Gianni, and this is how you show your love for me. You fucking vanish, you never call, you never even text. I haven’t seen you in almost a year!”

Gianni closed his eyes and sat straight up. It almost looked like he wanted Anna to get mad at him. He just didn’t care anymore. Maybe the years of his crime family work, and now his drug cartel work had finally caught up to him. Maybe he just wanted to die. Anna clearly thought the same thing.

Anna: “Fucking talk to me Gianni! Do you want to die?! They’re going to kill you if you don’t at least talk to me! Why can’t you say anything?! Why can’t you even fucking look at me?!!!”

Gianni suddenly opened his eyes and flashed a smile at the camera. But this was no regular smile. You could almost see the evil in it as he stared straight ahead at the camera. Anna almost jumped back she was so startled. He didn’t say anything, he just stared straight ahead, evil grin on his face, a death-look in his eyes. El Chapo suddenly walked back on screen.

El Chapo: “Times up”

Anna: “Wait!!!!”

El Chapo started up the chainsaw as Nacho held Gianni’s head in the air, exposing all of his neck. Anna immediately dove her head into my shoulders, crying her eyes out. I wanted to look away. I wanted to be anywhere else right now. I didn’t want to see what was happening, but I had to. I couldn’t show them my weakness. This wasn’t just sending a message anymore. This was war.

I watched as the chainsaw roughly cut right through the neck of Gianni, sawing his head completely off his body. I watched as blood sprayed everywhere, all over the soldiers’ clothes beside him, all over El Chapo’s face and clothes. I’ve never seen so much blood at one time. I almost couldn’t believe it. I watched the entire thing, as Gianni’s completely dead head fell off of his torso and onto the ground, off camera. El Chapo turned off the chainsaw, and wiped blood from his face. He smiled as he turned back towards the camera, staring at Anna and I.

El Chapo: “This is what happens when you fuck with us! You never fuck with Sinaloa! Try to steal from us again and it’ll be your head this time! Do you understand?! Never again Brandon. You may think that you can get to me, get to the cartel. But everything you do is insignificant. I am untouchable. My cartel is untouchable. You’re a minor speedbump. You think you’re so important, you believe that you can do what you want around here because you’re powerful. I could end everything for you in the blink of an eye. But I won’t. Because I want you to stick around. Big things are coming, and your connections will come in handy. But never ever put yourself before Sinaloa again. You work for us, not the other way around. I expect full cooperation from now on. If I don’t get that, you and everyone you’ve ever known will end up like this”

El Chapo reached down and pulled something up on the screen. Anna screamed again, as she had looked back at the screen for a brief moment, only to see El Chapo holding Gianni’s decapitated head in front of him, blood dripping out of the neck. I couldn’t help but cringe looking at it. I had seen a lot of shit in my life, but I had never seen a life taken so cruelly, with so little hesitation like that.

El Chapo: “Do I make myself clear?!”

I looked at Anna, who was now bawling into my shoulder. I looked back at El Chapo tossing the severed head of my best friends’ husband to one of the guards like it was a basketball. I nodded my head at the camera.

El Chapo: “Good. You will return to work tomorrow as normal, and I don’t want to hear anything different. Understood?”

Brandon: “Yes”

El Chapo: “Excellent. I pray that we don’t have to do this again. Because next time, it will be you sitting in this chair”

With that, the video stream cut loose and died. I immediately grabbed Anna’s computer and snapped it in half. I walked over to my bag and grabbed a signal jammer from inside. I had bought it a while ago, to stop press from interviewing me. It blocked radio signals, microphone signals, camera signals, everything. If the cartel had bugged this locker room, it was being jammed now. I walked back over to Anna, who was now staring straight down, no longer crying. I sat down beside her and put my arm around her shoulders, holding her tight.

This was all my fault. I was the one who took the gun from Anna and shot those two young agents. I was the one who decided to steal the money from the truck. And because of my refusal to cooperate, Anna’s husband was dead. And not only was he dead, but we had both witnessed the gruesomeness, the gore, the blood, the brutality, all of it. I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I was amazed that Anna kept everything down. But fuck. Everything that had happened was my fault. Anna had every right to hate me. To want me dead. I had basically just ruined her life, and all because I was too stubborn to take a simple beating message.

Brandon: “Anna I’m so sorry. This is all my fault”

Anna sat up and looked at me. I almost recoiled in shock. No longer was she crying, but instead, she was laughing.

Brandon: “Is something funny?”

Anna: “No. I just can’t believe any of this is happening. Are we dreaming? Is this real life?”

Brandon: “This is as real as it gets.”

Anna: “I literally just watched my husband get decapitated, and you know what? I don’t feel anything. No happiness, no sadness, no sorrow, no joy. Nothing. Just empty. What the fuck is wrong with me? How the fuck did we get involved in this shit?!”

Brandon: “I don’t know. But look. We’ll go back to work tomorrow, and things will go back to normal. I never thought things would go this far Anna. I just wanted to get out. But who was I kidding? There was no way we could get out. I should have just left it alone. I fucked up Anna. I fucked up”

Anna: “No. The only people who fucked up was them.”

Anna looked back up at me, and I could almost see the flames in her eyes as she spoke with an anger that I had never heard before. I was extremely taken aback. In all the years I had known Anna, I had never heard her talk like this.

Anna: “You planned that robbery well. What’s the plan for revenge, starting with the one Chapo loves the most”

Brandon: “Are you serious right now Anna? You want to go to war with an entire drug cartel?”

Anna: “No. I want to destroy El Chapo and his family. He destroyed both of our families Brandon. He deserves nothing less. An eye for an eye.”

Brandon: “Are you sure you want to do this? You know that the most likely scenario is that we both die. Beating Chapo has never been done, and never will be done. I trust myself and have full confidence, but even I’m not that stupid”

Anna: “But we have to try. Brandon, what do I have to live for now? I have no husband, no friends, no family, nothing. All I’ve got is memories. And you. I want to do this. I want Chapo to feel the pain that I feel right now. Will you do this with me?”

I looked at Anna. I could see the passion in her eyes. I understood how much this meant to her. I had just lost my wife, but not in the way that Anna had just lost her husband. I would never understand the pain that she was going through. But all I knew was that the pain I felt losing Karly, would be a hundred times worse for Anna. And I couldn’t even imagine it. I had to help her. Anna was my best friend, and I had done this to her. I had to fix it. I had to exact revenge on Chapo. I had try. Even if I died doing it.

Brandon: “Okay. I’ll do this with you Anna”

Anna sat up and almost smiled at me. She hugged me tightly. This was the weirdest emotional state I had ever seen Anna in. But then again, she had never had anything like this happen to her before. I wasn’t even sure if she had proper emotions anymore.

Anna: “So how do we do this?”

Brandon: “Just let me think. I’ll think of a way. I always do”




We returned to work normally, as if nothing was wrong. A few days of normal business running, mixed in with a few deals here and there. We had to carry them out without incident, in order to earn back the trust of the cartel. I wasn’t even sure if they were real deals. Just things to see if they could trust us to do our jobs.

To our credit, I felt that Anna and I did a very admirable acting job. Anna was surprisingly not sad at all about Gianni’s death. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that she never even saw or heard from him in months before his gruesome death. She had become accustomed to not caring about him. But at the same time, I also think that what she saw just sent her into a pit of no emotions. Anna had been very zombie-like lately. She said she felt empty. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she just lost all care she ever had. However, she was able to act sad, and make it look like she was really broken up about Gianni’s death. I think it helped a lot. And I just continued to do what I did before. Sell drugs and train for wrestling. My match against Shark was in only two days, and my mind really wasn’t in it. I had to really regain my focus. But that probably wouldn’t happen until at least after today.

I had to make it really obvious. I had to do something that really got their attention. So I straight up walked into the back of the store, grabbed a box that contained roughly a million dollars of cocaine, and walked out to my truck with it. I tossed it in the back of my truck and walked back inside the store. I walked up to one of the cameras, and immediately flipped it off. I laughed and walked back to the office and nodded to Anna. She immediately stood up and ripped up some papers she was working on, and walked with me to my truck.

I drove back to our apartment that we were sharing, carrying the box of heroin into the apartment with me. Anna followed suit. As we entered the apartment and walked up the stairs to our spot, Anna reached under a bannister and grabbed a gun that we had placed earlier, shoving it in one of her knee-high boots. I continued walking, and Anna grabbed a small knife that we had placed earlier as well, and taped it to the back of my calf, before pulling my jeans back down over top of it. Everything was all going to plan.

We walked into the apartment and immediately ran the box of heroin into Anna’s room. I pulled part of the wall off, which we had set up earlier. I grabbed a box that looked identical to the one I had just put down, only this box was on a wheel cart. I pulled it into the middle of the living room, slid it off the cart, and then took the cart back into the room and hid it behind the wall along with the real box of heroin. I walked back into the room, where Anna was already sitting, watching TV. I sat in a small wooden chair across from her, and waited.

About an hour passed, before I heard what sounded like a group of people walking down our hallway. The moment of truth. Our plan would either work, and we’d get the revenge that Anna and I both desperately wanted, or it would fail, and we’d die. No matter what happened, I was ready.

The door to the apartment burst open, and ten men walked inside and immediately started smashing everything in their way. I prayed that I would see the one man that I needed to be here. If Nacho didn’t show up, then all of this planning was pointless. But thankfully, my prayers were answered when Nacho walked in the door, wearing a nice suit, smiling at me.

The men came over to me as Anna screamed and hid on the couch. A few men pointed guns at her as she cowered in the corner of the couch. I didn’t even move from my chair as a few men punched me in the face and kicked my legs, stomped on my feet, before tying me up to the chair.

Nacho walked up in front of me, holding a computer. He placed it down on a chair that was facing across from me. He started it up, pressed a few buttons, and suddenly a screen popped up with El Chapo sitting there, watching me. He was smiling as he saw me, tied up to a chair in front of him, blood dripping down my face.

El Chapo: “Did you not learn from our conversation Brandon? You never fuck with us. Never. I told you that it would be you sitting in the chair next time this happened, didn’t I?”

Nacho smacked me with the butt end of a large knife that he pulled out of a sheath on his side. I looked up at Chapo and smiled. He feigned being afraid, and then started to laugh as he looked at me.

El Chapo: “You think you’re so smart. Could you have made it more obvious about your plans? Nobody takes one box of cocaine and then flips us off, unless they want to be caught. We know you wanted us to come here. And we know exactly what your plans were. You think we don’t have ears around here either? Brandon, I told you before and I’ll tell you again. You don’t win this battle. You don’t beat us.”

El Chapo nodded his head and immediately two of the guards standing with Nacho turned and began to shoot the replica box of heroin that sat beside me. I tried to stay still and show no emotion, but Anna yelled out instead. Perfect.

Anna: “No!!!”

After they stopped shooting, you could see white powder mixed with blood pour out of the holes in the side of the box. Nacho smacked me with the end of his knife again, as five men walked into my bedroom and began smashing down the wall. I could hear them lift the real box of cocaine onto the wheel cart in the false wall, and they wheeled the box into the main room. El Chapo smiled on the camera.

El Chapo: “Really Brandon, you shouldn’t have expected any less. I didn’t get this far by being an idiot. I can smell shit from miles away. Nothing you ever do or say will surprise me. Which isn’t saying much, because you’ve only got about thirty seconds to say anything ever again.”

I started laughing. I couldn’t stop. It was just too perfect. Everything about this was hilarious. El Chapo was so confident, he was so happy that he had won. But as he sat there, confused as to why I was laughing, he had no idea what was happening. He had no clue that he had just lost.

El Chapo: “Is death funny for you?”

Brandon: “I don’t know. Is it funny to you?”

Suddenly, I dove forward and tackled Nacho, driving my shoulder into his gut and sending both of us flying to the ground, me still tied up to the chair. As the guards moved towards me, the box of cocaine suddenly burst open and two men stood up, machine guns going full force, mowing down the guards in the apartment. Anna pulled the gun from her boot and immediately shot the two men standing guard over her. I was impressed; Anna was the one I was most worried about. But she seemed to have no qualms about killing anymore. All of those reservations were gone with that chainsaw to her husband’s neck.

I stood up and back dropped on top of Nacho, smashing the chair apart. I pulled the knife from my pocket and quickly cut the ropes off of my wrists and legs. I kicked Nacho in the face, knocking him backwards and onto the floor. I dropped down and punched him in the face multiple times, until he was teetering on the edge of consciousness. I grabbed him and lifted him into the air, carried him over to the chair, and sat him down in it. I immediately tied him up and punched him in the face again, right in front of El Chapo. I grinned and stared at him, as he looked on in shock and horror.

El Chapo: “How is this possible?!”

Brandon: “You really shouldn’t trust your men and your bugs so much. It lulls you into such a false sense of security. You think you know what’s coming, but then something else happens and suddenly you’re sitting there, feeling helpless, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop this. You really think I would be so obvious and let you just walk in here and kill my guys, fuck up my world and end it? Fuck that. I pulled the oldest trick in the book with you Chapo. The old switcheroo. Your spy next door was too easy. My guys got him, killed him, took his room. Easy access to my fake room. When we brought your box and switched it with my fake one, which by the way was just full of costume shop fake blood packs, my guys were taking the cocaine out of your box, hiding in it, and closing it up, and sealing it shut again. When you guys wheeled it right out here, I was just dying of excitement. Just to see your face after all this. After you finally realized you’ve been duped. I hope you’re ready to watch the same thing you made us watch just two days ago. Don’t you even think about looking away. I want you to watch this.”

I watched as El Chapo tried to say something, but words wouldn’t come to him. I knew that feeling all too well. He was helpless, watching as his only son was about to die in front of him. This was sick, this was twisted, this was incredible.

Anna walked back onto the camera as I grinned at El Chapo, who, to his credit, did not turn away from the camera. Anna pulled up a tank of gasoline, and began to dump it all over Nacho, coating him in the gas. Anna finished, and tossed the bucket away. I pulled out a lighter from my pocket and tossed it to Anna. She stared at El Chapo, a cold look in her eyes. The moment I saw that, I knew that everything that had happened to us had affected her. As much as she tried to hide it, as much as she did to make it seem like she didn’t care about Gianni, I knew that she did. I could see it in the way she stared at El Chapo. This was about revenge. She was doing all this for Gianni. She blamed him for everything that had happened to him, even before his death. I wish I had seen it sooner. But this is what Anna wanted, and this is what she needed.

Anna: “This is for Gianni you worthless piece of shit”

Anna dropped the lighter, and immediately Nacho burst into flames. I had to jump back to avoid all of them, as Anna did the same. I watched as Nacho slowly burned away. I listened to his screams. The fire burned as his life was slowly taken from him, right in front of his father. I grinned sinisterly, as I watched the horror on his father’s face as he slowly watched his own son burn away.

The screams slowly died out, but the fire continued to burn. I wanted nothing left of Nacho when this was done. I grabbed the computer and turned it on to me.

Brandon: “Don’t fuck with you?! Don’t fuck with you?!?! Don’t you fuck with me you fucking pile of shit! You think you’re so fucking powerful, sitting there with your militia, hiding behind computers in some fucking mountain range, getting everyone else to do your fucking dirty work. You think that you’re so fucking untouchable, that nobody will fight back because they’re scared. Nobody has ever tested you before. Well guess what motherfucker?! I’m testing you now! And so far you’re losing. You like that flaming pile of ashes over there that used to be your son?! Don’t you try to fuck with me again Chapo. You’ve seen what I can fucking do. I’ll tear your entire empire apart. Chapo if you keep going down this road, you’re not going to like where it ends up. So leave me and Anna the fuck alone, and we’ll leave you alone.”

I stared at Chapo for a few moments, breathing heavily. I was fucking pissed. This guy was trying to ruin my life, fuck with my world. Not on my watch. If he wanted me, he was going to have to do a lot more than that. He wasn’t beating me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

El Chapo: “You just made the worst fucking mistake of your miserable life Macdonald”

Brandon: “I’ll be the judge of that”

El Chapo: “I’m going to tear your world apart”

Brandon: “I’m looking forward to watching you try”

I watched as El Chapo reached for his computer, and suddenly the stream was gone. I grabbed the computer and snapped it in half, before tossing it in the fire. I looked over at Anna, who was just staring at the burning pile. I grabbed her and wrapped her in a hug.

Brandon: “It’s done. You did well”

Anna: “They’re going to come after us aren’t they?”

Brandon: “Without a doubt”

Anna: “They’re going to target everyone we’ve ever been close to”

Brandon: “They most definitely are”

Anna: “And we’re going to be ready for them, aren’t we?”

I cracked a wide grin at Anna.

Brandon: “Now you’re talking”




I think that was it. The start of my descent into madness. It was like straight out of a movie. The stuff I was doing was unreal. You wouldn’t even think that it was real. It seems straight out of a movie, maybe Scarface-esque. I felt like Tony Montana, minus the drug empire. Chapo was Sosa, and I was slowly driving myself mad trying to best him. I knew it was going to end badly. There was no way it was going to end well for either of us. A power struggle between a drug kingpin, and an ex-military, pro wrestler, number one celebrity in America caught up in the drug trade. I had to get out. For everyone. I needed my old life back. And I would never get it back until I got away from this Cartel.

But after they beat me, killed Anna’s husband, they made this personal. They made me do the things I did. It only got worse after I killed Nacho. If anyone thought I was going crazy then, they should see me now. Sitting in this van, going to prison. But you know what? I loved everything about this. Yeah I was fucking crazy. But it felt so good to be in the position that I was in.

I was a happy man. I went to the end of the world, but I came back. And I had my right hand woman by my side. Together we were going to conquer the world. Nobody was going to stop us.

I looked up with a sinister grin on my face, across the van at Agent Jones. He looked at me confused.

Brandon: “You have no fucking idea what’s coming.”

trust
/trəst/
Noun
Firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.
Verb
Believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of.

friend
/frend/
Noun
A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.

TRUST is what you expect from people close to you. BEST FRIENDS are very special people in your life. They are the first people you think about when you make plans. They are the first people you go to when you need someone to talk to. You will phone them up just to talk about nothing, or the most important things in your life. When you’re sad they will try their hardest to cheer you up.

All this shit doesn’t come from me, these are just definitions. I’m not about all the dramatic victim playing type bullshit.

Point is, the dude I call my opponent aka the next Shark Attack victim WAS my homie. That dude? I’d legit have his back no matter what, I thought we was niggas me and him.

I thought wrong.

This match at Heroes Also Die is a long time coming. Me and him used to talk about a match between the two of us one day. We sat around talking about the “What ifs” , we sat around talking about all the different types of scenarios.

Of course, back then, I wasn’t a good wrestler… just a good striker. He used to be so excited about the idea of a match-up with me. I was an up and coming big name… he was THE big name. I think in his mind it was an easy match-up for him.

Just avoid the strikes, take James Shark down, don’t let him get up, and either pound his face in or take a submission win.

As time went on, I believe the idea of an easy match-up for him started to blur a little bit and began to sound like nonsense as the months went by.

I evolved my game, started to out-wrestle world class wrestlers, started to get submission wins and escape from nasty submission holds. I became an all-around fighter with a nasty right hand. A dangerous motherfucker that could either use my wrestling as offense, or use it as defense and force my opponents to stand up with me.

I believe because of all that? That’s why our friendship came to an abrupt end Monday Night.

Really, I should’ve seen all this coming. All the avoided phone calls, the way we started drifting apart. Yea, I was definitely blinded for a bit, but now I see the true Brandon Macdonald.

A coward and a phony. Nothing more than a person who was once the best but lost that title a long time ago.

I thought this dude had my back, turns out, the moment I turned my back on him, he didn’t hesitate to stab me right then and there. Watching me fall, he raised his hands in the air to the excitement of all his thirteen year old fans… looking down at me...I think his conscience was telling him the same thing I said after replaying that video.

Motherfucker… You’re going to regret doing that.

88 is a lucky number. 88 will be the number marking my victory on Sunday Night. My victory won’t be lucky though. There won’t be any debate about this match. I’m not just looking to hurt Brandon or get revenge on him.

I’m looking to absolutely wreck this motherfucker on the feet, on the ground, in the corner, on top of the turnbuckle, outside of the ring, in the fan area, on the ramp, everywhere and anywhere this match takes us.

My match with Steel Angel was a retirement match.

I tried to get my match with Flex to be a retirement match but Dillinger didn’t allow it.

Third time’s a charm. This match will mark Brandon Macdonald’s SECOND retirement in the sport whether he likes it or not. The choice isn’t his, quite frankly, he has no choice.

I’m the judge, I’m the jury and I’m the executioner.

The name of the show is Heroes Also Die and everybody’s favorite villain is going to kill IWF’s hero that is… Brandon Macdonald.


“Niggas fear what they don't understand, hate what they can't conquer
Guess it's just the fury of man
Became a monster, on top of the world, never fallin
I'm as real as they come, from day one, forever ballin
C'mon
You ain't never seen a nigga like me, ever in your life
And that's what you can't understand!”

My entrance theme lyrics echoed throughout the background from the arena. Listening to those last bit of lyrics, I realized that they could all be directed to Brandon. I did become a monster, I did get on top of the world. I think inside Brandon, that hurt him and he couldn't understand it.

As I made my way past the curtains and into the backstage area, I began to storm right towards Brandon Macdonald’s locker room. There really weren’t a lot of people backstage, the main event had ended a while ago and I had just recovered from whatever the fuck that move was that he used on me.

The only people left backstage seemed to be a bunch of staff crew, cleaning up and getting ready to head out. Then again, I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings, I had tunnel vision, the only thing I was thinking about right now was payback. Right now... I was planning on revealing my middle name.

Karma.

Was this the game we were going to play? Was this what Brandon Macdonald had become?

Attacking me from behind? Resorting to a cheap shot to end off the show? Yea… it seemed that way. He ended ths show like any other typical fucking white boy. Ending the show and stealing my fucking spotlight.

The show ending should’ve just ended with me knocking Flex out, me getting my hand raised, everyone being aware that James Shark had gotten three wins in one week. Three fucking wins in one whole week.

But no, of course Brandon had to ruin all that. Of course he had to try and get an “advantage” on me. Maybe he wasn’t aware that we had a whole week left until the damn match. Maybe he should’ve realized that instead of making things better for him… he just made things a lot worse. If he wanted James Shark to come into this match with him as his enemy and with nothing but disrespect… all he had to do was ask.

James Shark: Heroes Die, motherfucker say hello to the bad guy.

I yelled that out the moment I saw the locker room to Brandon’s door. I wanted him to hear me, I wanted him to know that I was out here coming for him. I took a step back, and leaned in. Taking my right foot and putting a lot of power behind it, kicking the center of the door, causing it to make a loud noise of impact. This definitely got the attention of people around me… as if I already didn’t have eyes on me.

Four more kicks and the door was open. I scanned his locker room finding nothing, that son of a hooker had already cleaned out and left the arena. A smile crossed my face. Now I wasn’t smiling because I was happy that he had left as fast as he could. I was smiling because I was annoyed. Annoyed and very fucking frustrated right now.

That short smile on my face disappeared quickly as I clenched my fists tight. I wanted to punch him, I wanted to punch him so hard. To break his face, to shatter his face like glass. I imagined that once that happen, his real face would emerge. That dude was two-faced, it was the reason why he wore a mask. He was an all-around fake dude.

“James what the fuck!?”

I slowly turned my head around to see Brooklyn right outside of Brandon’s locker room. For a moment, I totally forgot that she had come here with me. As photos were being snapped behind her she slowly came in, examining the empty room herself.

Brooklyn Carter: And you expected to find him in here? You should’ve known he would’ve bolted.

I didn’t respond, I couldn’t respond. Just standing in his locker room was getting me angrier by the second. That bitch was probably sitting here earlier plotting the whole thing. I should’ve kept my guard up, throughout the whole match he was acting shady. Pretending like he wasn’t seeing my pin-falls, making slow counts. I should’ve saw that attack happen the moment he messed up that first pin.

I wasn't stupid, Brandon was the worst referee in the world tonight by choice. Steve Mazagatti could've done a fucking better job.

Now I had the blame on myself. Now my anger was mixed towards him and I. How I wished that I could’ve just swung backwards and landed right on his chin. Getting to him before he got to me. Then who would’ve been standing over who? Then who would’ve gotten the last laugh?

Brooklyn Carter: Hello?? Are you even listening to me?

Again, I slowly looked over at Brooklyn, locking eyes with her. She looked at me all weird.

Brooklyn Carter: You’re freaking me out. You’re just standing in the middle of the room with your fist all tight, looking like you’re about to cry or something…

James Shark: Cry!?

Brooklyn Carter: Well… yeah. It looks like it, you look upse-

James Shark: Shut the fuck up Brooklyn. For real, you always pull this shit. You come out of fucking nowhere with your lame ass jokes, always telling them at the wrong fucking time.

Now she looked upset herself.

Brooklyn Carter: Who’s joking? Don't get snappy with me fuck face. I’m trying to talk to you and you’re just standing there ignoring me. I’m just saying like-

James Shark: Okay then if you’re serious then that’s pretty fucked up yo. Where the fuck were you when I got attacked?

She looked shocked to hear me ask her that.

Brooklyn Carter: What are you trying to say!? God, where do you think I was? You don’t think I care? I was trying to get to you, the people backstage wouldn’t let me. In case you forgot, that whole scene was chaos. Flex getting attacked by that other “wrestler guy”, Brandon attacking you, the fans going crazy… they didn’t let me go out there. I wanted to-

James Shark: You wanted to come here and crack your fucking jokes.

Brooklyn Carter: Stop being a fucking asshole. I was asking you if you were alright just now but you were ignoring me.

James Shark: Does it look like I’m fucking alright?

Brooklyn Carter: Physically? Yes. So I don’t know why you’re making this such a big deal. You’re healthy and that’s good. Calm the fuck down and get him back at the Pay Per View. He’s obviously gone right? So there’s no point in throwing a temper tantrum.

James Shark: A temper tantrum? A motherfucking temper tantrum?? That’s what you said right? I just want to make sure those are the two words that came out of your mouth.

Brooklyn shook her head and ran her hair down with her hand.

Brooklyn Carter: Oh my goodness… here we go again.

She rolled her eyes at me as I turned around, walking out of the locker room to find myself getting more photos snapped at me and people recording me with their camera phones. This was just perfect, the pictures that would surface online with Brandon standing over me were bad enough, but now? Now there would be more pictures to go with that.

Brooklyn began to walk after me, trying to catch up.

Brooklyn Carter: You shouldn’t be taking your anger out on me boy. Like think about it, when I saw that shit go down I wanted to go out there and kick Brandon in the fucking head. I wanted to go out there and beat his ass even though I’m pregnant. I was going to do it James, because it fucking hurt me to see that, it was so unexpected and-Ugh… are you even fucking listening to me!? You're such a piece of shit.

She grabbed my arm, yanking me backwards, causing me to stop walking and face her.

Brooklyn Carter: Stop walking away, I’m talking to you.

James Shark: Then stop talking to me yo, like fuck. It ain’t the science of ships.

Brooklyn Carter: You mean rocket science? Douchebag nigger cunt face.

I turned away from her and began to walk away again. This time I didn’t hear her foot steps behind me or her saying anything. A quick look over my shoulder confirmed that she wasn’t behind me. As I turned around completely I could see that she was walking the opposite direction, I shook my head and continued walking.

Earlier the hallways looked a bit dead but now there were a lot more people around me. Either I didn’t notice and it was always like this… or me and Brooklyn caused a scene that attracted some nosy fucks.

Now I was finding it hard to even walk straight. Motherfuckers were just in every direction. I was getting tired of walking around people so I started to push people out of my way and clear my path. Before I knew it, I had bumped into a camera man. The camera had actually hit me in the forehead.

I stopped and grabbed my forehead before grabbing the camera man by his shirt with my fist up in the air ready to pretend he was Brandon Macdonald. Before I could swing, I heard something that really bothered me.

“Hey guys, so we’re backstage here at the end of Battle Grounds and we’ve just caught up with a very emotional James Shark”

Instantly, I let go of the camera man and turned right towards the female voice, finding none other than Lilah. At first I was a bit caught off guard, I recognized her right away but I was surprised to see her here with a microphone in her hands. I heard about a new cute face backstage and that she was an interviewer but I had no idea that it would be her.

My ignorance was acceptable though because I never came to the arena early. Whenever I arrived it was right before my match, then after that I would leave. This was actually the first time I stuck around and it was to get revenge on Brandon. That was obviously a flop, but at least I learned something new.

James Shark: Emotional? Really yo?

My anger died down a little bit as she smiled at me, I still grabbed my forehead before turning over to the camera man, making sure he wasn’t too close.

James Shark: Hey yo back the fuck up.

Lilah: James, congratulations on your victory over Flex Johnson. A win over the High Impact Champion along with a winning streak certainly gives you the confidence coming into the Pay Per View… but with that attack… one has to wonder… did Brandon Macdonald take away that confidence?

Okay, now my anger was sort of coming back. Did she really just ask me that? Here I thought that she would be different from the other interviewers.

James Shark: Yo, aren’t you like one of Styg’s boo thangs? Or like… former or whatever. Which one were you? His wife or his girlfriend?

Lilah: Um…

James Shark: Cause like being around a wrestler and all I’d think that you’d know more about us and this sport. Turns out, you really don’t know shit.

Lilah: You won the match but he got one on you leading up to this match… and with him being your opponent and all I was just-

James Shark: Yea well check this out dragonfucker.

I grabbed the microphone from her hands and looked over at the camera.

James Shark: Brandon Macdonald didn’t take away my confidence, he didn’t take away my spotlight, he didn’t take away a damn fucking thing. If anybody took anything away from the other guy here tonight, it was me taking away Brandon’s fans. Cause of that cowardly act that he did back there, now everybody sees the real Brandon Macdonald. Of course, we should’ve all realized how fake he was the moment he ran around backstage with that fucking mask on, attacking Gordon, but you know what? Now after tonight, we know for sure. There’s a snake in the grass yo, and Imma step on its head come Sunday.

I dropped the microphone right on the floor as I stared a hole right through the camera lens. Lilah quickly picked up the microphone, she wasn’t done yet.

Lilah: James, this match is being labeled as the biggest match-up in the history of the company. Although it is just a singles match, the two of you represent this company as the very best and-

I turned around to face her, coming close to the microphone.

James Shark: See now I don’t know what your question is, but let me say something. I’m glad you bring that up because I don’t think a lot of people are giving this match the credit it deserves. I really don’t believe they’re looking at this match as something special, to the ones that are, good for them, to the rest? It should’ve clicked the moment the card was released to the public and people saw that the world title match would be co-main eventing to us. When the hell has that ever happened? I’m not just talking about IWF, I’m talking about in wrestling. You say this is the biggest match in IWF history and I say that it’s the biggest match in wrestling. This is a big match for the IWF, the sport and for me and Brandon. It’s the most important match of our fucking lives and I can’t wait to beat him.

Lilah: Well… as I’m standing here talking to you, I can just see how fired up you are. I think the viewers watching this exclusively on IWF.com can see that as well. We all know this is just business, but we also know about the friendship the two of you have. Does this match affect that relationship?

I grabbed the microphone again, snatching it right out of her hands.

James Shark: Friendship? Relationship? Had you asked me this question before the Main Event about forty minutes ago, I would’ve told you no. I would’ve told you that me and Brandon are both professionals, that we’re both grown ass men. I would’ve stood here and told you that we can come into that ring, beat each other’s ass and then go out for a steak after the match, but now? After what went on? It’s done.

Lilah tried to grab the microphone from me but I was still holding it, instead she just leaned towards it.

Lilah: When you say it’s done… you mean the friendship? Because the two of you are very good friend-

James Shark: Yea the motherfucking friendship. It’s over, done, squashed.

Now I turned back over to the camera.

James Shark: Advice for all yall up and comers out there. Don’t befriend yo motherfuckin co-workers. They’ll be quick to stab you in the back the moment they’re put in a match with you. This whole thing was business before but the dude just made it personal.

Lilah: In my opinion, I think it still is business. What he did just created a lot more hype and excitemen-

James Shark: It’s THE fucking match yo! It didn’t need any more hype. What he did was over-kill. Every motherfucker I know is going to be watching this Sunday.

Now I had my eyes back on Lilah.

James Shark: You know why Brandon did that? Cause he felt threatened. He saw what I did to Flex Johnson. Flex has been on a tear lately, looking good as ever. I told the world that he would look his age in our match, and he did. I backed up every word and gave Flex the beating Sheyanne should’ve given him. In my promo I said that I would send a message to Brandon and I did that too. Because of what he saw, he had to take a step back and pull an act of desperation.

Lilah: Well whatever it was, I think both of you sent messages to each other tonight.

James Shark: Yea well his message ain’t got sent. Failure to deliver is what that shit was…

Lilah: But you were backstage going crazy just a few moments ago. Wouldn’t that mean he’s in your head?

I thought about it for a while. That phrase had a negative label on it, after thinking about it, I decided to rip the label off and make it a positive as I nodded my head at her.

James Shark: Oh he in my head alright. I ain’t tryna deny it, I’m in his head too, only difference is, he don’t want me in his head, but I want him in mine. See… I work better this way, when I got grudges or something to really fight for? A match that truly motivates me? They all end in a crazy violent fashion. IWF and Alex Dillinger are going to have nothing but hate for me when this PPV is over, I’m going to hurt this company. A perfect scenario for this match is for it to be an all-out war, sixty minutes of hell, a back and forth brawl. It won’t turn out like that.

Lilah: Oh? How do you see it playing out?

James Shark: This match ain’t going more than five minutes. Brandon Macdonald is going back into retirement, I’m going to remind him way he retired it the first place. He don’t have what it takes to hang with the best no more. This heavily anticipated match up won’t be nothing more than a dominant, one sided, quick and easy victory, mark my words, cause they getting backed up.

I dropped the microphone right on the floor again and stared at Lilah, she bent over about to pick it up but I quickly stepped on it and shook my head.

James Shark: Don’t. We’re done here.

I kicked the microphone away as I turned around and pushed my way past the people around me yet again. Just from that little interview it seemed that I had let all my steam out, I was actually pretty relaxed now.

Making my way to my locker room, I was happy to see a bunch of reporters waiting outside the door. That meant that Brooklyn was in there, she didn’t leave the arena, despite me being an asshole to her she was still in there waiting for me.

As the reporters saw me they quickly began to shout out a whole bunch of questions and point their cameras in my face. I shielded my eyes from the flashes of light and quickly opened the door to my locker room, shutting it closed behind me.


James Shark: You good?

Brooklyn Carter: Are you?? You’re the one who snapped at me.

I sighed knowing I was at fault, she shook her head at me.

Brooklyn Carter: It’s fine Shark, I’m not mad. I know how this business is, half our fights and breakups were because of all the stress and emotions that this business comes with. All of this stuff comes with being a professional wrestler, it all comes with the territory. Just don’t take it out on me. I don't deserve it.

I nodded my head, walking over to my girl and apologizing to her before hugging her, following that up with a kiss on her forehead. She looked up at me smiling before asking me a question.

Brooklyn Carter: So are you really done with Brandon?

It was weird that she had asked me that.

James Shark: How’d you know about that?

She flashed me her phone, waving it at me. I could see that she was on the IWF Mobile site.

Brooklyn Carter: I saw trends about it all over Twitter, it brought me over to the IWF site. I was able to catch a bit of your live interview.

James Shark: Damn, word goes around quick.

Brooklyn Carter: Yeah, no kidding, but I really can’t believe all this shit went down tonight. Everything seemed fine earlier, I mean you introduced me to him an-

James Shark: Were you watching when I said he did what he did cause he felt threatened?

She nodded her head.

James Shark: That’s all it is. The moment he made the match and I came out that ring, looked him right in the eyes and made him realize that I wasn’t going away, he had this look in his eyes. It wasn’t really a look of fear but it was a look of regret, kind of like him saying to himself “Holy shit, what did I just do?”

Brooklyn Carter: Are you just saying that or?

James Shark: Nah, it’s what I saw. I wasn’t like any other of those fucks he was staring down. Those dudes shaking in front of him, not wanting to make eye contact cause they’re staring at the “oh-so-great” Brandon Macdonald. I’ve been saying that I’m the best in IWF for a long time, so when I stood in front of him that night on the other show, I wanted him to feel it in me.

I took a peek up at the clock as I walked forward and began to pack up our things.

James Shark: And you know what? I think he did. That’s why he didn’t show up to my birthday bash in the locker room and that’s why he pulled that bitch move tonight. Funny how the two black guys, me and Flex turn out to be the real men and the two white boys, Jacob Figgins and Brandon Macdonald turned out to be the cowards.

She shrugged her shoulders.

Brooklyn Carter: This sport is full of surprises.

I nodded my head agreeing with her. I still had my back turned towards her as I began to put everything into the luggage. Everything seemed to be just going just fine at the moment, I should’ve expected for something to just ruin it all. It was the next set of words that came out of Brooklyn’s mouth that did just that.

Brooklyn Carter: Your Dad is just… he’s sick James.

I dropped the luggage right on the floor and turned around to look at her.

James Shark: You talk to Carmen too huh? I don’t want to hear about it.

Brooklyn Carter: What?

I shook my head at her and turned back towards the luggage, picking it up and placing it on the chair to finish packing.

Brooklyn Carter: He’s sick and Carmen’s been pushing for you to see him because he’s afraid that he’ll pass and before that happens… he wants to spend quality time with his son.

What the fuck was her deal? I turned around again, this time eyeing her down.

James Shark: Brooklyn cut the bullshit, what’s your problem yo? The same shit you spitting right now is the same exact shit Carmen told me when we made up. I don’t want to hear it, fuck, can a nigga get a moment of peace around here?

Now Brooklyn stood up, looking at me awfully confused.

Brooklyn Carter: What the hell are you on about NOW?

James Shark: You’re not funny, here you go again cracking jokes at the wrong time.

Brooklyn Carter: I’m not doing anything!

James Shark: Yea okay

I turned my back to her again once more but just as I did…

Brooklyn Carter: He knows he fucked up, fucked up big time and he also knows that there is nothing he can really do to… I don’t know what to do to show you that he’s really sorry but-

Now I dropped the luggage again, this time dropping it by kicking the chair it was placed on. Both the luggage and the chair dropped right on the floor, all the clothes and items falling out of the bag.

Brooklyn Carter: James!


I turned around and walked right past her, leaving her in the locker room as I walked out. She knew how I felt when it came to that topic. Why the fuck was it so hard for motherfuckers to just drop it? I didn’t want to hear about it and I didn’t want to hear about him.

Maybe had I lost this fucking match things would’ve turned out a lot better and my night wouldn’t have gotten ruined.

Maybe had I fucking lost, Brandon wouldn’t have attacked me and Brooklyn wouldn’t have been bringing up the same exact bullshit Carmen did to me last week.

Who knew winning could cause so much fucking problems?

I won this match. I destroyed Flex Johnson right in front of Brandon’s eyes. I did everything I said I would do. I won three matches in seven days, putting my record at eighty seven wins from eighty four. I did something legendary, I did something in this one night that no other IWF superstar had ever done in their whole careers.

Yet, I felt like I was being punished for it.

Brooklyn was probably sitting in the fucking locker room right now with a big fucking smile on her face. Brandon too, except he was doing it in his hotel room. Fuck em both, and fuck this whole night. Without thinking, I instantly rammed my fist into a wall nearby, ignoring the pain on my knuckles and fingers as I quickly exited the arena.


I was expecting James to come back with a huge grin telling me that he was just joking. I literally sat on the bench staring right at the door for a good fifteen minutes until I realized that this nigga wasn’t coming back.

He had actually gotten really angry. His entire face turned red and I swear I saw steam coming out of his ears. His big ass head even looked like it was growing bigger, about to burst and explode all over this room. What was his deal? Where did all that even come from and why did he have to storm out of the room like that?

If he wasn’t going to come back here and give me an explanation we were going to have some problems. Serious problems, like what he did wasn't right.

He was the one always making fun of me and calling me psycho, him and his twitter friends all joining along. I was the pregnant one, what was his excuse for acting all crazy?

So what if he got attacked after his match, he had to expect some build up leading up to the Pay Per View to end the show. Maybe he was upset about the whole situation with Brandon being his friend, but that still gave him no excuse to snap at me. This was like the second time tonight. It was right after we hugged it out and everything too.

That nigga and his mood swings acting like he was on his period. Ugh, what a fucking baby.

He kept going on about how Brandon attacked him but knowing Shark, he would’ve done the same thing. He was probably just so upset about it because he didn’t get to do it and Brandon got to him before he could.

That’s probably what this all was.

But… why bring up his father?

I wasn’t even saying a damn thing, I just sat on this chair and he kept turning around, looking at me as if I was talking to him. He kept telling me to “cut the bullshit" implying “shut the fuck up”. I was mad confused for a second, like it was so weird.

The only time I spoke out was when I asked him what the hell he was on about and even then I got no explanation. He just snapped back at me accusing me of cracking jokes at the wrong time. Who the fuck was joking though?

There was definitely something wrong with him, and yes I was upset with him but at the same time, that whole scene wasn’t normal and… I don’t know.

“Yeeeeeeeeooooooooo you reached Sharkypoooo-poooooo. I don’t know what I be doing right now bruh. I could be avoiding yo call, fucking my girl, my girl’s girl or shit, I don’t know, eating chicken? Whatever yo, leave a message or whatever.”

What a voicemail… I remember when he made that too. I had to smack him in the head for the whole “girl’s girl” part. Always trying to be funny when he just came off sounding like a hoe, he was also drunk when he made that voicemail recording… or high, maybe both?

*Beeeeeep*

Brooklyn Carter: James, fuck you, answer your phone and come back here nigga. I waited for yo ass when you walked away from me and now you’re just going to walk away from me again? No, nuh-uh. Get your ass back here or els-

Suddenly, the locker room door opened as I was leaving the message. It was James. What the hell? I ended the recording as I stood up in front of him.

Brooklyn Carter: What the hell was that??

He sighed.

James Shark: Yo, you not going to believe me but I swear to the ghost that fucked Mother Mary that this whole father thing has me paranoid.

Brooklyn Carter: Yea? Maybe we should go back to the hospital just like last week. Only this time it won’t be for your wrist, it’ll be for your head because that whole stunt you pulled wasn’t normal. I wasn’t fucking saying anything James and you were like accusing me of talking about your father. Telling me that Carmen already told you…, told you what!? I don’t even know a damn thing about your dad. You don’t tell me about him with good reason, and when I hang with Carmen, that’s not the topic we talk about fool.

James just kept nodding his head at me.

James Shark: I know, I know. I mean… I thought you was saying all that but then as I walked out to the arena, every motherfucker was saying it. I swear I even walked up by a dog that was taking a shit, that nigga didn’t bark at me, he just said the exact same thing.

Brooklyn Carter: That’s funny… but like weird.

James Shark: It ain’t funny yo, this shit is driving me nuts

I was just so confused. I still didn’t have any updates. I had no idea about the conversation he had with Carmen when the two of them made up. Obviously, she said something to him about his father, but what had my babe so damn paranoid?

Brooklyn Carter: What though? What were you hearing? Like.. what the hell did she say to you that stuck in your head that badly??

Again he sighed.

James Shark: She said my father is sick and I mean “sick”.

Brooklyn Carter: With what??

James Shark: Man… I don’t know, I ain’t ask. I honestly didn’t give a fuck but then she went on about how he may pass away and that he wants to spend time with his son before that all goes down, this and that… it’s just fucked up.

Brooklyn Carter: And what? You’re undecided?

James Shark: I told her to fuck off and drop the topic. I thought I was good but ever since I left her place I ain’t been able to get that conversation out of my mind. She told me that he’s changed but people don’t just change. I find it weird how he just wants to see me now that he’s passing, he could’ve done It a lot sooner.

Brooklyn Carter: Well… maybe…that’s what it took for him to realize that he messed up. Maybe he just wants to fix that mistake he made before he goes…

James Shark: I don’t know what the hell it is but I just don’t know what Ima do. Part of me says that the fucker deserves to die and to keep giving him a cold shoulder.

Brooklyn Carter: And the other part has you feeling guilty?

He nodded his head. Now it was my turn to sigh, he should’ve told me about all this. Carmen should’ve told me too, damn this Shark family. Having a pregnant girl out of the loop and all confused

James Shark: I don’t know what to do yo for real

Brooklyn Carter: Are you asking me for my opinion?

He just stared at me, almost like he was unsure.

James Shark: I think I already know what that would be.

Brooklyn Carter: Good. Ultimately it’s up to you, but you can’t let this control you or drive you insane and match-wise? This couldn’t be happening at a worse time, this is like the biggest match of your entire IWF career. You won all the titles, you broke records and beaten practically every single name on the roster… now it’s time to beat Brandon Macdonald, but for that you have to be game Shark. You can’t be going in there being Daddy’s Boy, thinking about the man.

James Shark: Daddy’s boy though?

Brooklyn Carter: Hey, you deserve to be called a lot worse for leaving me twice tonight. Nigga, you’re lucky you came up with a good reason, I was about to slap that goatee off your face.

He smirked. Deep down, I'm pretty sure he knew the importance of being clear minded for this match. He also knew that I wasn’t just telling him to get his mind off the whole thing because of Sunday Night.

Regardless of the upcoming match he had, having those thoughts in his head about his father wasn’t healthy.

After the match, me and my baby would bring up this topic again. If he decides to see his father, we’ll schedule a date and I’ll come with him. If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t and the idea should just be forgotten completely.

I really wasn’t worried about James this Sunday though. He’s been on a fucking rampage. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was on a five match winning streak. If his mind was clear and his focus was 100% on Mr.Macdonald this Sunday, then it would be a domination.

If he wasn’t focused? I wouldn’t say Brandon wins. I’d call for a close victory for James and the funny thing was that it wasn’t a biased prediction at all.

What people needed to understand about my babe, was that, love him or hate him, he’s a winner.

Losing sucks and he hates it more than anything in the world. Injured, hurt, beat up, broken, or whatever… James Shark finds a way to win.

Waddup, How yall doing?

Been a while since I been on this shit. Even forgot my password for a bit, but it’s all good. We live now and I got some shit to say.

I’ll give you motherfuckers time to get your phones out, your voice recorders, screen recorders, whatever. I want this video to be re-uploaded onto every website and video site out there. Everybody needs to hear what I have to say. Wrestling fan or non-wrestling fan, they need to know wassup.

So as far as what went down after the show Monday Night? James Shark captured on video punching walls and going crazy backstage? It’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t even worry about what you saw. Just like I told Lilah, Brandon is in my head and it ain’t a good thing.

Them videos on Monday also saw me arguing with Brooklyn. To answer all the same millions of questions at once… yes, me and the wifey are good. Actually, we not good, we’re great, better than ever. So again, don’t worry about us, don’t worry about Sharklyn, and forget about everything you saw.

I want everyone to forget about all the build-up and hype leading up to this match and just think about the match itself. I got some shit I want to air out and a dude I want to expose, but before I can do that, you fucks need to be clear minded.

I’ll wait, just go ahead and forget about it all.

Ready? Yall good? Okay cool.

So listen, after all those viral videos of me going crazy backstage went out, we had all these conspiracy theorists shouting out “Fake”. Those people told you fans that it was nothing more than an act to just increase the already insanely large hype for this match. They also said that me and Brandon planned the attack after the match, that I was expecting it.

They think this whole rivalry is staged, some sort of storyline called “Friends turned Enemies”

Let me tell you all something.

We aren’t the CWF and we definitely aren’t no damn WEW.

We don’t stage shit in that ring, we respect the sport and we go out there to go to war. I can talk shit about every person in the IWF locker room but what I can say is that every single one of them have been through war.

Either they been through war to become apart of the roster alone, or they been through war to stay on the roster in that ring… either fucking way, they been through war and nothing in this company is faked to sell tickets or get people talking.

This thing between me and Biggy Mac is real, it’s very fucking real. Me and him were friends, we’ve sat in each other’s living room, drank a few, smoked a few, even fucked a few of the same bitches. I grew a strong bond with that dude but you know what I learned Monday?

I learned that if I were to pour myself in gasoline… giving Brandon a lighter wouldn’t be a good idea.

You can’t trust a guy like him. He doesn’t know the meaning of trust. I refuse to stand here and say that two men are going to go to battle. I’m the grown ass man and Brandon is the little boy.

I look at him as a little boy because I feel like he is intimidated by me and amazed by how much I have improved and how far I have come. I’m not the one trick pony anymore. James Shark is no longer a name that people laugh at.

I look at him as a little boy because he doesn’t know how to keep a friend close. He turned me into an enemy and I have no problem being closer with that title.

Most importantly, I look at him as a little boy because it always has to be about Brandon Macdonald.

“ME, ME, ME, ME, ME, ME, ME”

That’s Brandon Macdonald yo, he should come out to a theme song with those lyrics because it always has to be about him. If it’s not? He can’t fucking stand it and he will find a way to make it all about him.

Brandon Macdonald heard I was returning to the IWF. No… my bad, I lied. He didn’t hear about it, this wasn’t no damn rumor to him, it was fact. He knew about it, he knew about it because he was one of the first people I told.

Just like every other close friend of mine, he was surprised to hear that, but you know what? I wasn’t surprised to find out that right after I told him that, he decided to wear that mask and slowly make his own comeback.

“Oh? James Shark is returning to the IWF? The IWF is wasteland right now, James Shark can’t have all that attention. I have to have it”

When Brandon asked me about why I was making my return, I told him all about my goal to bring back the respect and excitement IWF once had when we were around. I told him all about how guys like Ethan Cage and Griffin Hawkins would be opening the shows had people from our time returned.

Funny how his whole rant in his return promo consisted of exactly what I had told him that night.

But it’s okay, because again, it had to be all about Brandon.

When my Birthday Bash show came around, it was Brandon that had to get the opening segment. It was Brandon that had to come on out to the ring and open up the James Shark Birthday Bash show. It was him that had to immediately make it about him. Talking about his PPV win, talking about how he would main event FTA, and talking about how he would face me at HAD.

It was Brandon that had to reveal to the world that we would face each other, a match that the fans just went crazy for.

“Oh my god, Brandon you’re our hero! We’ve been wanting to see this match for ages”

Me and Brandon were supposed to announce the match together, but what the hell right? It’s Brandon Macdonald’s world, we all just live in it right?

Take last Monday as the best example.

I had just gotten my victory. Flex told me to keep dreaming on Twitter and I told him “Nah my nigga, you the one that’s going to be dreaming when I put you to sleep” and that’s exactly what I did. Brandon couldn’t handle the spotlight not shining on him.

He couldn’t stand being in that fucking reff outfit with all eyes on the winner. So he did what he had to do.... make it about him.

With me listing all of these facts, you’d think that all of this would explain the beef that I have with Brandon, but honestly? That’s not even a bit of it, there’s more, a lot more.

Apart from him making things about himself, there’s also the fact that he changed. Ever since he got his ass kicked by Alex on his own hall of fame show, he changed man. Ever since he retired, he just fucking changed.. for the worse.

That dude was always about himself, but the Brandon I knew didn’t need to wear a mask to get a job done, he didn’t need to sign up for the Path to Valhalla Match knowing full well that he would win because the contestants wouldn’t show any sort of challenge to him. The Brandon that I knew didn’t cross-dress.

He puts on his makeup, gets his lipstick all over them lips, then adjusts that wig he stole from Anna, gets caught in multiple public places dressed as a girl, then changes his Twitter avatar to it.

First reaction was: “Yo what the fuck?”
Him? “It’s just a joke calm down”

Just a joke but you still have it on your fucking avatar? Just a joke right? How long as that been up homie? For a month? Maybe two?

You are the textbook definition of a closet faggot.

But that’s not it though! That’s not all! Since we’re on the topic of Twitter, let’s talk about that day Brandon Macdonald smashed Tiffani Michaels and then non-stop tweeted about it.

“Did you enjoy it?” “Was I good?” “Was I your best?” “Do you want to do it again?”

Bruh… the motherfucker was doing it for HOURS. Legit the whole fucking day. Don’t believe me? I mean yall couldn’t have possibly missed it anyways because it wasn’t just one day. It went on for legit three fucking days. Dude sounded like a fucking virgin who had sex for the very first time in his life.


See that tweet? That could’ve cut it. That one tweet coulda been it, but no, he had to show it off to the whole world. Seriously, it was literally like he lost his v-card, he just wanted everyone to know. Anyways… peep the fucking time stamp. 7:58 AM

Now check this out motherfuckers,


9:32 PM. We’re not talking about AM with a two hour difference, we’re talking about PM. Just like I said, he was literally on about it for the whole fucking day. In between those time frames are like one hundred other tweets.

“They don’t call me big Brandon for nothing” “You are a very dirty girl but so sexy” “Wow last night was so amazing I can’t stop tweeting about it!”

Like shit, shut the fuck up.

If Tiffani was a super model looking hoe with big titties, a nice round ass, spectacular face, long legs and a delicious pussy….THEN OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!! OKAY MOTHERFUCKER, SHOW IT OFF, SCREAM IT OUT LOUD, BE PROUD, WRITE IT IN YOUR DIARY, GET A TATTOO OF THE DATE AND EXACT TIME YOU FUCKED HER ON YOUR FUCKING FOREHEAD, BUT COME ON!!!!

She’s not even…. God man, she’s not even a 6. Tiffani is a 5 at best, the fuck are you trying to brag about? I really don’t even think it was bragging, you just really couldn’t stop talking about it. The funniest part about it is, she knew it too.

You barely got replies, the most you got were favorites. She favorited a lot of those tweets and you were probably like “YES! Fuck yeah! a favorite! I shall keep going!”

Clueless-ass-white boy yo.

I’m a nice guy, do you know what I do when I don’t want to respond to a tweet? Instead of flat out ignoring it, I’ll just favorite it. There you go fool, you won’t get a reply, but you can have this favorite. That’s what I do.

Now I’m assuming Tiffani is a nice girl too. Poor thing probably thought that you would just stop had she favorited a bunch of them. Nope, not at all

I think all those tweets drove her crazy. Have you all seen her last performances?

The chick got her ass kicked the other night by some other chick named Kyu…. Ok hold up a second. I’m reading some shit on here that one of you fans are typing out on the chatroom area. Heh, funny…

I gotta go back to the PTV match for a second cause some Brandon Macdonald nutthugger is talking about how there WAS competition in that match and that I’m just trying to make BMAC look as bad as possible.

Listen here CanadianBoy0712 , competition is NOT Corey Bull, Jack Savage, Messiah, Gordon Fury, Figgles, Storming Raven, Tiffani Michaels, Blyss, Roman Dillinger or Frank Finelli

I’m sorry but they are just not competition. I love Blyss, but she just would get slaughtered in a match against me, against top level guys.

After Brandon won, the dude went on to say “Oh my god!! Tiffani and Blyss can beat most guys! Holy shit, such a tough match they gave me”

That was him trying to play off his victory to make it look like impressive. People who truly know about this sport know that his victory was nothing more than luck. He took advantage of a situation where he knew there would be no competition. He knows he got an easy win too, that’s why he told me not to sign up for the match.

Yup.

James Shark was going to be a part of the PTV match and Brandon told me “Let me have my moment, I’m returning”.

Pussy.

Can’t run away from me now huh? Can’t make this moment all about you now huh? What is Brandon going to do to me in that ring that hasn’t been done to me before?

Seriously, what is he going to do that hasn’t been done? I’ve been hit with everything in my career and I know that he doesn’t have anything for me. I also know that no other dude will hit him right on the jaw as hard as I will.

He's never stepped into the ring with a guy who has my striking skills. It throws people off because their always worried about my hands that just seem to land at will.

Like I said, Brandon Macdonald has nothing for me. At least… not now.

When people talk James Shark and Brandon Macdonald, they think about “The Best of IWF”. I was building this up as the biggest match in history and everything leading up to HAD but to be brutally honest, after thinking about the whole thing, I’ve come to the conclusion that tomorrow night is a fucking joke.

There is no dispute or question.

James Shark is the best in IWF. James Shark is the best right now and he’ll be the best in the future. All Brandon was, was the best in the past. That’s all I’m going to give him, but even then, he doesn’t deserve that title.

Did he represent IWF in the interpromotional war? No, he didn’t. I was the one that was representing this company. It was IWF Champion vs WEW Champion. James Shark vs Chance Rugani. I knocked Rugani the fuck out.

Where was Mr.”I’m the best in IWF” Brandon Macdonald?

While Brandon Macdonald was IWF world champion, all he fucking did was face Corey Casey. You guys remember what I did when I was world Champion? I fucking went out and fought in DIFFERENT PROMOTIONS.

I put IWF on the map and I gave them the attention the company so desperately wanted. The first time anybody heard the letters “I-W-F” was because they saw it on the championship that I hung around my shoulder walking into different promotions.

While I was world champion, I took on fuckers that were calling me out in WEW and CWF. The two companies I hate the most. I walked into their doors with no fear, stepped foot in enemy territory and won matches over there while having the pressure of defending my title and remaining champion in IWF.

Another thing I did was win the TIW World Championship.

I was holding two fucking world titles. What was Brandon doing? Picking his fucking ass, that’s what he was doing.

And you know… I’m probably going to be killed after this UStream. The dudes behind the scenes at IWF are probably going to put a hit on my head or something for revealing this… but you know what?


Brandon Macdonald only became IWF Superstar of the Year because of his image. He’s the good guy, he’s the good looking white boy with the big muscles and the fans love him. Could you imagine what would happen to the IWF had they given James Shark the award?

The nigger with the bad attitude. The guy who doesn’t give a shit about the fans and flips them off?

They would’ve been in deep waters, just like Brandon is tomorrow night. Heroes Also Die is special to me, it’s special to me because it’s the night I became the IWF World Champion for the FIRST TIME. I Main Evented the first ever event by knocking Dan Alexander the fuck out, it was the second time I beat him.

It was the same guy that took Brandon to his limits, and I beat him with ease….

And you know what? That reminds me of something….

I want to direct my attention to Brandon real quick before I close this off…

Brandon, I remember when I was going up against Axle Vengeance, aka The D. I remember I came to you as a friend asking you for some advice since you faced him. Now of course, since you lost to him, your pride didn’t allow you to give me advice. All you could say was how good he was and how I would have to train super hard.

You didn’t tell me that in a kind way. You told me that in a way that told me that you expected to see me lose. Why? Because you couldn’t defeat him?

I remember when I did beat him, you were the first one to come up to me and say “No way, that’s impossible, he had to have thrown it”. You couldn’t stand the fact that I got to him with such ease and you could barely pick up any sort of advantage on the guy.

You’ve always put yourself above me. These people? These fans? They’ve always put you above me too. It’s been happening leading up to this match, it’s been happening before you retired, after you retired… it’s been happening for a long fucking time.

Sunday Night. July 28th 2013. It all stops.

May the best man win is what they’re saying, and the best man will win. His name is James Shark, and all this talk? It’s getting backed up as usual.

This would’ve been a match lived up to the hype had you been healthy, had you been the Brandon Macdonald that didn’t lose to Alex, that didn’t retire, that didn’t run around backstage wearing a mask.

I’m not defeating the man that people think you still are, I’m just defeating the name. This Sunday is nothing more to me than another day at the job.

But don’t worry “homie”.

You’ll get your chance for a rematch. We all know you’re going to defeat Ethan Cage. That is… if I let you make it to that match.

If I’m nice and let you walk out of this match, able to compete at From The Ashes and avoid retiring you, then I expect the title to be on the line at the next PPV: Fallout. Where I beat you for a second time and retire you then.
But who knows right? I might as well just throw out the trash now, end your career, then steal your Main Event spot at FTA and end Ethan’s career along with his title reign.

Decisions, Decisions.

But again… If I’m a nice guy. I expect to earn that title shot the same way I earn it every single week. A #1 contenders match for the title, co-main event at FTA. Anybody that Dillinger has in mind, I’ll face them.

“But James, how much disrespect you have!! Planning ahead and already looking past Brandon Macdonald!”

This match is in the bag and if I decide to not play the part of hero and be the bad guy that I am… then Brandon’s body will also be in a bag.

Heroes Also Die remember?

I brought Yuko a pillow, I brought Flex a whole fucking mattress. I’ll bring Brandon Macdonald a casket. Unlike my other opponents, he may not wake up.

Catch my fist, Catch them ZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz’s

Peace out motherfuckers and tune into the James Shark show tomorrow night.

Yeahhhh think it's obvious but its still 1 rp, didn't fit in 1 post. mmk