An Open Letter To Myself: "Laughter. Echoing Laughter. All of you fell for it. Each and every one of you, and why not? I can get under even the thickest of skins, and infect even the most stubborn of emotional immune systems. Secretly, deep down, I am your hero. Why? Because I save you from the mundane, or as you call him, Dan Stein." The sunlight of tropical Bermuda sneaks in through the small windows in the basement of Thomas Kelser's home. The peaceful silence of the room is broken by the sound of hearty laughter. As we grow closer to the source, we see several items of interest, most notably, baskets of goodies, from gift certificates, to even honey glazed hams, lined up around Wrath. And why not? People had begun to embrace the "new" Aeolus Wrath, and he had done all the work to make it seem like it was real. He did promotional work, he did charity work, and why? Not because he truly cared, but to further the facade he was placing in front of the gerbils known as TTW fans and superstars. Shit, even Ed Raymond bought it, and he sent Aeolus a letter telling him of his appreciation. Wrath sits on his leather couch, in a pair of dark red windpants and a black tanktop, his hands behind his head, enjoying the fruits of his deceitful labor. He looks up at us, with the sinister smirk we thought had vanished from his personality.
"Laughter. Echoing Laughter. All of you fell for it. Each and every one of you, and why not? I can get under even the thickest of skins, and infect even the most stubborn of emotional immune systems. Secretly, deep down, I am your hero. Why? Because I save you from the mundane, or as you call him, Dan Stein."
The sunlight of tropical Bermuda sneaks in through the small windows in the basement of Thomas Kelser's home. The peaceful silence of the room is broken by the sound of hearty laughter. As we grow closer to the source, we see several items of interest, most notably, baskets of goodies, from gift certificates, to even honey glazed hams, lined up around Wrath. And why not? People had begun to embrace the "new" Aeolus Wrath, and he had done all the work to make it seem like it was real. He did promotional work, he did charity work, and why? Not because he truly cared, but to further the facade he was placing in front of the gerbils known as TTW fans and superstars. Shit, even Ed Raymond bought it, and he sent Aeolus a letter telling him of his appreciation. Wrath sits on his leather couch, in a pair of dark red windpants and a black tanktop, his hands behind his head, enjoying the fruits of his deceitful labor. He looks up at us, with the sinister smirk we thought had vanished from his personality.
Aeolus:"Sure, you wanna say you saw it coming. You want to turn to me and say you knew it all along, but you can't. No you, loyal viewer, you were just like the rest, like all the Locos, Raymonds, and Moxleys of the world. You believed that I had come home to myself, to my senses, and begun to see the light. Some say Stein saw it all coming, but as visual evidence suggests, he didn't. So for all those journal entries of goodness, all the times when I stopped to say hi and even hang out with those folks in Sky High, replace all of that with variations of the following." "Fuck Sky High. Fuck Stein. Fuck Moxley. Fuck Loco. Fuck the whole group and the whole thing, and fuck you, while we're at it." Wrath grins, rubbing his chin, taking a deep breath. "Ah, now that feels better. Wanna know what else feels better? Of course you do. Its the fact that I am now a member of High Society, a group of the most successful and talented TTW superstars, period. I can't believe you people didn't get the memo. I don't hang out with born losers like those no talent hacks at Sky High. I hang out with champions, both present and future. I only hang out with the best. Call me a sell out, because in due time, you'll be calling me the greatest. Not Devestation, not Damien Black, and not Greyson Blade. My name will be on all your lips, my face on every tv screen. You won't be able to look away, except when I demolish your heroes and so-called greats. Speaking of which, can somebody answer me this question?" "Raymond...what in the fuck are you doing? I mean, I know I came from OPW where they were, and still shoving The Row and Kenji Yamada down the throats of their fans like bad ass cough syrup, but Greyson Blade as a double champion? Did Nick Ledgerwood slip you something in your fruit cocktail or something? Listen, now I know this all satisfies that very important demographic to you, the hicks and pseudohicks in America, but other than that, it only satisfies one thing, Greyson Blade's ever growing ego. It's gonna take over Ed, and you're going to let all of us suffer for it, suffer for your mistakes. It's ok. We all know I could take either one of those titles from Blade, if given the opportunity. I mean, look how long it took him to beat MY DAD of all people. Just joking Blade...well, not really." Wrath leans over to a basket of fruit. He yawns, and knocks the basket to the floor. We get a close up of the tag, reading: "Thanks for redeeming the code of honor in Sky High. Good luck in the next round, you've been a true inspiration to all of the children here, Nancy Parker, Miami Youth Programs, Miami, FL. "Who sends somebody like me fruit anyways? What do I look like, The Kumquat Kid?" "What people fail to realize is that without me, nobody would know who the fuck Dan Stein even is. Up until this point, he's floated in the midcard status in this business, but now, now he has a feud, a rivalry if you will, with a man who with one false move, one mistake from him, can knock those fucking "Lights" right out. Dan knows this. Everybody in Sky High knows it. You see, regardless of the results, I did one thing I planned on doing, and I plan on continuing into Sky High 3. I am bigger than Loco Martinez. Bigger than Dan Stein. Bigger than Sky High, period. Let Stein have his glory. History has shown already, that despite the athleticism of the event, Raymond wants his pretty little faces to hold the Cup. No one else. Its bad for business. Fuck what's bad for business, what's bad for Raymond. What's good for me?! Well, we're all fixing to find out exactly what that is." Wrath looks down at a photograph on his coffee table. It's a group picture from Sky High 2, Wrath in the front row, with a huge grin on his face, so "happy" to be there. Wrath shakes his head at the picture. "Dan Stein knows if we had a rematch for that Sky High Cup, I'd take it from him. It would be like what happened in our match in the finals never happened. So he can take pleasure and security in the fact that until Sky High 3 comes to a close, he will be the Sky High champ, he will be the man who stands atop the rest of us high flying athletes. He can go out and get drunk, hit on ladies, and have a grand ol' time. While I train. While I prepare. While I focus and go onto greater things. In 2006, for all the Devestations, for all the Greyson Blades, Gryffin Anslems, and Damien Blacks, there's really only two things you need to know for the year. One, High Society will be dominant, the most dominant force in TTW. Second, and most importantly, I will be. I will be a champion. I will be a fucking icon, a staple here in TTW. Why? Because while you can't trust a word pieces of shit like Dan Stein have to say about what is and what isn't, you can trust me on this..." "I am greater." "I am superior." "I am...the code of energy." "G'night, fuckhats." And with that Aeolus rips the picture in two, as we zoom in on one face, his own, still smiling that oh so fake smile, as we then fade out.
"Fuck Sky High. Fuck Stein. Fuck Moxley. Fuck Loco. Fuck the whole group and the whole thing, and fuck you, while we're at it."
Wrath grins, rubbing his chin, taking a deep breath.
"Ah, now that feels better. Wanna know what else feels better? Of course you do. Its the fact that I am now a member of High Society, a group of the most successful and talented TTW superstars, period. I can't believe you people didn't get the memo. I don't hang out with born losers like those no talent hacks at Sky High. I hang out with champions, both present and future. I only hang out with the best. Call me a sell out, because in due time, you'll be calling me the greatest. Not Devestation, not Damien Black, and not Greyson Blade. My name will be on all your lips, my face on every tv screen. You won't be able to look away, except when I demolish your heroes and so-called greats. Speaking of which, can somebody answer me this question?" "Raymond...what in the fuck are you doing? I mean, I know I came from OPW where they were, and still shoving The Row and Kenji Yamada down the throats of their fans like bad ass cough syrup, but Greyson Blade as a double champion? Did Nick Ledgerwood slip you something in your fruit cocktail or something? Listen, now I know this all satisfies that very important demographic to you, the hicks and pseudohicks in America, but other than that, it only satisfies one thing, Greyson Blade's ever growing ego. It's gonna take over Ed, and you're going to let all of us suffer for it, suffer for your mistakes. It's ok. We all know I could take either one of those titles from Blade, if given the opportunity. I mean, look how long it took him to beat MY DAD of all people. Just joking Blade...well, not really." Wrath leans over to a basket of fruit. He yawns, and knocks the basket to the floor. We get a close up of the tag, reading: "Thanks for redeeming the code of honor in Sky High. Good luck in the next round, you've been a true inspiration to all of the children here, Nancy Parker, Miami Youth Programs, Miami, FL. "Who sends somebody like me fruit anyways? What do I look like, The Kumquat Kid?" "What people fail to realize is that without me, nobody would know who the fuck Dan Stein even is. Up until this point, he's floated in the midcard status in this business, but now, now he has a feud, a rivalry if you will, with a man who with one false move, one mistake from him, can knock those fucking "Lights" right out. Dan knows this. Everybody in Sky High knows it. You see, regardless of the results, I did one thing I planned on doing, and I plan on continuing into Sky High 3. I am bigger than Loco Martinez. Bigger than Dan Stein. Bigger than Sky High, period. Let Stein have his glory. History has shown already, that despite the athleticism of the event, Raymond wants his pretty little faces to hold the Cup. No one else. Its bad for business. Fuck what's bad for business, what's bad for Raymond. What's good for me?! Well, we're all fixing to find out exactly what that is." Wrath looks down at a photograph on his coffee table. It's a group picture from Sky High 2, Wrath in the front row, with a huge grin on his face, so "happy" to be there. Wrath shakes his head at the picture. "Dan Stein knows if we had a rematch for that Sky High Cup, I'd take it from him. It would be like what happened in our match in the finals never happened. So he can take pleasure and security in the fact that until Sky High 3 comes to a close, he will be the Sky High champ, he will be the man who stands atop the rest of us high flying athletes. He can go out and get drunk, hit on ladies, and have a grand ol' time. While I train. While I prepare. While I focus and go onto greater things. In 2006, for all the Devestations, for all the Greyson Blades, Gryffin Anslems, and Damien Blacks, there's really only two things you need to know for the year. One, High Society will be dominant, the most dominant force in TTW. Second, and most importantly, I will be. I will be a champion. I will be a fucking icon, a staple here in TTW. Why? Because while you can't trust a word pieces of shit like Dan Stein have to say about what is and what isn't, you can trust me on this..." "I am greater." "I am superior." "I am...the code of energy." "G'night, fuckhats." And with that Aeolus rips the picture in two, as we zoom in on one face, his own, still smiling that oh so fake smile, as we then fade out.
"Raymond...what in the fuck are you doing? I mean, I know I came from OPW where they were, and still shoving The Row and Kenji Yamada down the throats of their fans like bad ass cough syrup, but Greyson Blade as a double champion? Did Nick Ledgerwood slip you something in your fruit cocktail or something? Listen, now I know this all satisfies that very important demographic to you, the hicks and pseudohicks in America, but other than that, it only satisfies one thing, Greyson Blade's ever growing ego. It's gonna take over Ed, and you're going to let all of us suffer for it, suffer for your mistakes. It's ok. We all know I could take either one of those titles from Blade, if given the opportunity. I mean, look how long it took him to beat MY DAD of all people. Just joking Blade...well, not really."
Wrath leans over to a basket of fruit. He yawns, and knocks the basket to the floor. We get a close up of the tag, reading: "Thanks for redeeming the code of honor in Sky High. Good luck in the next round, you've been a true inspiration to all of the children here, Nancy Parker, Miami Youth Programs, Miami, FL.
"Who sends somebody like me fruit anyways? What do I look like, The Kumquat Kid?" "What people fail to realize is that without me, nobody would know who the fuck Dan Stein even is. Up until this point, he's floated in the midcard status in this business, but now, now he has a feud, a rivalry if you will, with a man who with one false move, one mistake from him, can knock those fucking "Lights" right out. Dan knows this. Everybody in Sky High knows it. You see, regardless of the results, I did one thing I planned on doing, and I plan on continuing into Sky High 3. I am bigger than Loco Martinez. Bigger than Dan Stein. Bigger than Sky High, period. Let Stein have his glory. History has shown already, that despite the athleticism of the event, Raymond wants his pretty little faces to hold the Cup. No one else. Its bad for business. Fuck what's bad for business, what's bad for Raymond. What's good for me?! Well, we're all fixing to find out exactly what that is." Wrath looks down at a photograph on his coffee table. It's a group picture from Sky High 2, Wrath in the front row, with a huge grin on his face, so "happy" to be there. Wrath shakes his head at the picture. "Dan Stein knows if we had a rematch for that Sky High Cup, I'd take it from him. It would be like what happened in our match in the finals never happened. So he can take pleasure and security in the fact that until Sky High 3 comes to a close, he will be the Sky High champ, he will be the man who stands atop the rest of us high flying athletes. He can go out and get drunk, hit on ladies, and have a grand ol' time. While I train. While I prepare. While I focus and go onto greater things. In 2006, for all the Devestations, for all the Greyson Blades, Gryffin Anslems, and Damien Blacks, there's really only two things you need to know for the year. One, High Society will be dominant, the most dominant force in TTW. Second, and most importantly, I will be. I will be a champion. I will be a fucking icon, a staple here in TTW. Why? Because while you can't trust a word pieces of shit like Dan Stein have to say about what is and what isn't, you can trust me on this..." "I am greater." "I am superior." "I am...the code of energy." "G'night, fuckhats." And with that Aeolus rips the picture in two, as we zoom in on one face, his own, still smiling that oh so fake smile, as we then fade out.
"What people fail to realize is that without me, nobody would know who the fuck Dan Stein even is. Up until this point, he's floated in the midcard status in this business, but now, now he has a feud, a rivalry if you will, with a man who with one false move, one mistake from him, can knock those fucking "Lights" right out. Dan knows this. Everybody in Sky High knows it. You see, regardless of the results, I did one thing I planned on doing, and I plan on continuing into Sky High 3. I am bigger than Loco Martinez. Bigger than Dan Stein. Bigger than Sky High, period. Let Stein have his glory. History has shown already, that despite the athleticism of the event, Raymond wants his pretty little faces to hold the Cup. No one else. Its bad for business. Fuck what's bad for business, what's bad for Raymond. What's good for me?! Well, we're all fixing to find out exactly what that is."
Wrath looks down at a photograph on his coffee table. It's a group picture from Sky High 2, Wrath in the front row, with a huge grin on his face, so "happy" to be there. Wrath shakes his head at the picture.
"Dan Stein knows if we had a rematch for that Sky High Cup, I'd take it from him. It would be like what happened in our match in the finals never happened. So he can take pleasure and security in the fact that until Sky High 3 comes to a close, he will be the Sky High champ, he will be the man who stands atop the rest of us high flying athletes. He can go out and get drunk, hit on ladies, and have a grand ol' time. While I train. While I prepare. While I focus and go onto greater things. In 2006, for all the Devestations, for all the Greyson Blades, Gryffin Anslems, and Damien Blacks, there's really only two things you need to know for the year. One, High Society will be dominant, the most dominant force in TTW. Second, and most importantly, I will be. I will be a champion. I will be a fucking icon, a staple here in TTW. Why? Because while you can't trust a word pieces of shit like Dan Stein have to say about what is and what isn't, you can trust me on this..." "I am greater." "I am superior." "I am...the code of energy." "G'night, fuckhats." And with that Aeolus rips the picture in two, as we zoom in on one face, his own, still smiling that oh so fake smile, as we then fade out.
"I am greater."
"I am superior."
"I am...the code of energy."
"G'night, fuckhats."
And with that Aeolus rips the picture in two, as we zoom in on one face, his own, still smiling that oh so fake smile, as we then fade out.