Personal Narrative: An Iceman's Death

“I remember my fundamentalist mother’s ideology about prayer. Hell, she lifted it straight out of the Good Book. ‘Ask and you shall receive’.

I’m a pretty laid back ole’ boy and I don’t make a lot of demands. If I want something then I’ll ask for it, not demand it. So far in the League I’ve asked for two things.

The first was a simple request. At Only the Strong Survive, the Iceman did a fine job of makin’ a lovely collage of bruises on my body. Despite the pain, I was ready to roll for the next show. Then I got a call from the backstage brass, well I got a call from their assistant. She told me the suits were concerned about my health and wanted me to take a week off from the ring.

There was no way I was gonna’ mess a chance to ply my trade. More importantly, I wanted to show the League, and a certain Iceman, what the extent of my skills actually are. It took me a while but I managed to spin the story enough that my request to compete was granted.

From bell to bell there was no doubt who the best man in the ring was. Tueros and Rev Ellion barely left a mark on me, and I left both those bastards in a heap on the canvass. It was a good night’s work and one I was proud of.

Later that night in Music City, I had a second request. I calmly strode down to the ring after the Iceman’s match and I told em’ that we were gonna’ settle our score the next week. Somewhere along the way, the matchmaking committee crossed the wrong wires and I ended up with a different fight this week than I anticipated.

I guess my Mom and that book’s logic is bullshit after