Kids are the future, right?

“Hey Uncle Chris!” squealed the little guy, as his feet pounded towards me with purpose. “We've got you a new toy! Wanna see?”

That’s my nephew. His name’s Robert. Overall, I’d have to say that he’s a good kid, because he’s never really caused me any aggravation (aside from spilling gravy on my shirt at a christening one time.) Sure, he’s a little tubby and has more freckles than he does pubic hair, but I can’t really hold that against him.

Right?

“I’m kind of busy right now,” I mumbled, pretending to read a newspaper. There was something about deceiving kids that gave me a great sense of satisfaction. Maybe I’m just an asshole. I don’t mind – someone has to be. So, I continued to play the part of the asshole Uncle, throwing out yet another patronising question. “Why don’t you give the toy to someone else, perhaps? Like, maybe an invisible friend?”

“I’m 5 years old,” quipped the omniscient youngster, with saliva slipping from his mouth. “I don’t believe in invisible men anymore. That was so last year.” What a difference a year makes, eh? In fact, what a difference a few months makes. One minute I’m opening up shows and crushing Travis Miller… and the next? I’m facing Jon Fuller in Suicide’s main event, coming in fresh from the biggest win of my career against legitimate world title contender Dominic Perculator.

Now, that’s what you call progression.

“Alright, alright,” I sighed begrudgingly. It’d been a hard day. “Show me what you’ve got.”

That’s when my brother walked into the room holding a gigantic teddy bear. How cute, eh? Well, that’s probably what I would have thought to myself had I still not been bitter about the circumstances surrounding Greg’s arrival in the country. He’d noticed that I was doing pretty well for myself and knew that there was a buck to be made after the match with Pericolo. Isn’t it a coincidence that he jumped straight on a plane, turned up on my doorstep and asked could he stay for a few weeks?

No, it’s not.

“What the hell is that?” I said, screwing up my face like some kind of demonic mongoose with a heat rash.

“That’s Mr Bear-tastic!” giggled Greg in a giddy fit. “We’ve nicknamed him that, because we think you’re going to continue your rise to prominence by beating Fuller this week! Isn’t that great?”

A subdued atmosphere swept the room, swirling and tearing up everything in its path as it did. Slowly, I ran my fingers through my hair, forced my left eyebrow towards the Heavens and delivered a compelling comment to break the silence.

“I fail to see how a teddy bear fits into all of this.”

In actual fact, the teddy bear had absolutely no relevance to Jon Fuller at all. It was simply another of my brother’s ploys to keep me sweet with yet another meaningless gift. Memories of goofy chocolate fireguard he’d bought last Christmas were evoked as I gazed across at the pink, fluffy animal.

The bear had nothing to do with Jon Fuller. Nothing at all.

“Well,” began Greg, desperately searching for some kind of link to Fuller in a vain attempt to sell his argument. “I’m sure Fuller’s Mum bought him a teddy bear at one time or another! Yup, in fact, isn’t Jon Fuller famous for being the only wrestler to still go to bed with a teddy bear? I’m sure I heard that on the radio.”

Clutching at my face, I shook my head from side to side, hoping that the Earth would cave in and lead my idiotic brother to the fiery pits of the underworld. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen… and as a consequence, I was left to mop up the conversation.

“Greg,” I announced clearly. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” With a brief sigh of his own, my goofy little brother packed up his belongings, picked up his son and headed for a fancy Hotel around 2 miles down the road.

Peace at last.

However, it was then, as I sat there alone on the couch, that I realised that perhaps there was something to link Fuller and a teddy bear.

“They’re both easily replaced, I guess.”

And that’s exactly what I intended to do… Replace Jon Fuller at the summit of mount HWF and prove to the world why I really should be the number 1 contender for the biggest prize in our sport.

Now, I really do need to finish that victory speech. It's not every day that you topple Dominic Pericolo.