By the time he reached the high school, he felt somewhat better. Waylon and Willie always seemed to have a soothing effect on him. The joint he smoked on the drive didn't seem to hurt either. He didn't usually partake in recreational drug use, but he figured why let a perfectly good joint got to waste? "It' not like I'm a pothead or anything," he rationalized to himself. Rocky had given him the joint months ago after the matches one night when Marc was upset over a loss caused by Handsome's interference. "This will calm your nerves," Rocky said when he gave him the doobie. Marc kept it in his wallet for months taking extra precaution not to let Alexis find it. Whenever Rocky asked him about it, Marc would tell him that he was saving it for the right occasion.
He had thought that the effects of the joint had worn off for the most part when he pulled the Cadillac in to the parking lot, but something didn't seem right. The matches didn't start for another two hours, but the parking lot was already packed. Vidalia wasn't one of their major towns the promotion worked. They did spot shows there ever few months to maintain exposure and interest in the promotion, but there were usually only a few hundred people there. Hensley or the boys didn't make much money off shows in towns like Vidalia. Shows in these kind of towns were mostly vehicles for autograph signings souvenir sales. Hensley viewed the intermingling with fans in these small towns as an opportunity to sway the fans to Brighton on Wednesday nights where they would spend more money.
"What's with all the cars out there? Are they having another event or something before the matches?" Marc asked Rocky as walked into the locker room.
"Looks like we're going to have a full house tonight," Randy said.
"In Vidalia?" Marc questioned.
"You haven't heard?" Rocky asked him.
"Heard what?"
"Hensley changed our match."
"Changed our match?"
"Yeah, we're wrestling Predator and the Mercenaries in a six-man tag."
"What the hell?"
"Hey, don’t ask me. Ask Hensley."
"I will, damn it!"
"Hey, man, are you stoned?" Randy asked him.
"You finally smoked that joint?" Rocky asked. "Hell yeah. I can tell by your eyes. It's about damn time. I usually wait until after the match, but it should wear off in plenty of time before our match."
"I'm fine," Marc assured them as he walked toward the door of the locker room.
"Where are you going?" asked Randy.
"I'm going to call Hensley," Marc answered.
***************
Marc was pissed. The small towns were supposed to be light work. Hensley had always saved main event matches for Brighton, or other metropolitan areas with larger arenas. Yet, here he was in match with Predator and the Mercenaries just two days before his big match with Predator in Brighton, and of all places in Vidalia at a damn high school gym. What the hell was Hensley thinking? Marc wasn't prepared mentally or physically to wrestle Predator, or the Mercenaries for that matter. Was Hensley trying to sabotage his loser leave town match? Maybe it was the marijuana clouding his judgment, but Marc had enough. He was going to give Hensley a piece of his mind.
"Hello," said Hensley as he picked up the receiver.
"Hensley, what the hell are you doing changing my match tonight?"
"Marc, is that you?"
"You're damn right it's me! Why the hell did you change my match?"
"Calm down, Marc. If you'd looked at your booking sheet, you'd have known that I changed that card weeks ago."
"Nobody ever looks at those damn booking sheets. Joe Maxwell tells us on Saturday TV when and where we're booked each week. You know that. Hell, you used to be one of us years ago. You know how it is."
"I always looked at my booking sheet when I wrestled."
"Whatever. You know you should have said something. Why the hell did you change the match?"
"Houses have been down lately. We sold 1000 tickets in Vidalia as opposed to the usual 200. I guess I should have said something to you, but I changed that card weeks ago. I figured you knew already. We've had flyers all around Vidalia and ads in the papers promoting the card."
"So, that's what this is all about. Filling the houses. You put our health and careers on the line just so you can make a few more bucks."
"Marc, you know the business. Are you alright? Is something else bothering you?"
"I got the biggest match of my life Wednesday night, and I walk into this crap. I wasn't ready for Predator tonight."
"This doesn't sound like the Marc I saw on Saturday. You ought to be glad to get a shot at Predator before Wednesday. It'll be a great chance to soften him up."
"Quit trying to butter me up. I told you that I didn't prepare for Predator tonight?"
"So, are you telling me that you want out of the match?" Hensley asked growing more irritated.
"Why don't you call Murphy? He's still got plenty of time to make it." Marc sarcastically replied.
"I tell you what. Stu is booked in the first match. If you want it, you can have his match and I'll put him in the six-man tag with rocky and Randy. He's been showing some promise lately, so I bet he'll jump at it the chance to get in a main event."
"Go to hell. I'll do the damn match."
Chapter Ten
"Are you ok?" Rocky asked as they made their way ringside. "Randy and I can cover the match if you're not up to it."
The offer struck a nerve with Marc. He was the veteran in the match and didn't need guidance from a couple of young kids. He understood their concern that he could get hurt going to the ring inebriated, but his high had worn off an hour or so ago. He hoped they wouldn't say anything to Hensley or the boys about it, but he wasn't too worried. He had seen Randy and Rocky get into a lot of crazy stuff that he had kept under wraps. Besides, it was Rocky who gave him the joint in the first place.
"Yeah, I'm good," Marc replied. "You guys work the Mercenaries. I'll be there if you get in trouble. Just make sure you tag me in if Predator gets in there."
The high school gym was packed. Hensley had added an additional 400 folding chairs to the basketball court. Every one of them was filled. The bleachers, which were the only available seating at most of the events Hensley held at the gym, were packed like sardines as well. Marc was glad the cheap high had worn off. The good people of Vidalia had come to see Magnificent Marc battle Predator before their loser leaves town match in Brighton. He had no choice but to perform. While Randy and Rocky still got awestruck at screaming fans grabbing at them and chanting their names, it was a surge of adrenaline that Marc was addicted to. He couldn't believe that he had called Hensley complaining earlier. As hard as it was to admit, Hensley was a genius for changing the card. Marc understood Hensley's actions; he just hated being the pawn to make them happen.
***************
Randy and Rocky worked most of the match against the Mercenaries as planned. Predator had tried to help double-team Rocky a couple of times, but Marc quickly ran him out of the ring. While the referee separated Predator and Marc, Randy and Rocky did some double-teaming of their own on one of the Mercenaries.
The match was fast and exciting with Rocky and Randy controlling the pace of the match by outsmarting the Mercenaries. A double-drop kick sent the legal Mercenary to the outside of the ring. Predator finally saw his chance to get in on the action as he clobbered Randy with a double-axe handle from behind. Mercenary 2 attempted the same move on Rocky, but Rocky saw him coming and was able to take the big guy down with a drop toe hold.
It was then when everything was looking good for the team when Marc spotted Mercenary 1 preparing to make his return to the ring to help out his partners. Marc could see him clearly across the ring. He was loading his mask. It was time to get serious. Marc needed to get across the ring in time to stop the Mercenary from nailing Rocky with his loaded mask. As he stepped through the ropes to counter-attack the Mercenary's planned assault, something stopped him. As Marc turned around to discover Johnny Handsome holding and pulling at his
leg to keep him from entering the ring, Predator whipped Randy into the ropes in Marc's direction. Randy tried to curb his momentum, but the back of his head collided with the back of Marc's as he bounced from the ropes.
The impact sent Marc flying off the ring apron onto the hardwood floor of the gymnasium with a resounding thump. He would have tried to shield his head from smacking the floor, but the collision caught his normal reactions dumbfounded. The lights went out for Marc when his head met the basketball court at high speed. He regained partial consciousness after a few seconds. It was long enough for him to roll under the edge of the ring apron for temporary safety. Then, it was lights out again.
***************
He didn't know how long he had been out, but it seemed like hours. His head felt like it had been hit with a brick. His remained on the floor as he regained his composure. He wondered what was going on in the ring. Why hadn’t anyone came to check on him? He finally managed to sit up, but just sat gazing at the crowd through blurred vision instead of attempting to get back in the ring. "Let's go Randy, let's go," the crowd cheered. "Come on Rocky," he heard a fan shout. Here he had been lying on the floor in front of everyone, yet no one seemed to notice. He sat there a few minutes longer observing the fans at ringside. "Get up Rocky!" a fan screamed.
Marc felt invisible. He might as well grab a Coke and sit with the rest of the crowd. No one would notice. After all he had given to the fans over the years, and this is how they treat him? Didn’t they understand that he severely jeopardized his upcoming match with Predator when he hit his head? Why weren't they concerned for him? Why hadn't Randy or Rocky checked on him?
He finally managed to pull himself up. Clutching to a ring post, he checked on the action in the ring. Randy was stretching for a tag, while one of the Mercenaries clamped down on Rocky with a chin lock. The Mercenary added a few stiff knees to the small of Rocky's back to inflict more punishment and strengthen his grip. Instead of climbing back to the ring apron, Marc just watched. He would have thought that the team was in dire straits by the sound of the crowd when he had been lying on the floor. He didn't get it; nothing made sense to him. Why didn't Randy or Rocky check on him? Why wasn't the crowd cheering for him? He turned to look at the crowd. It was as if they were looking right through him. "Let's go Rocky!" a fan chanted.
Eyeing an empty chair from a fan that had recently gotten up, Marc saw his opportunity to make the fans take notice. Grabbing the chair, he rolled back into the ring. With dumbfounded stares from Randy, Johnny Handsome, and everyone else in the building, Marc crashed the steel chair into the Mercenary's back. The referee signaled for the bell as a second blow from the chair sent the big man out of the ring. The other Mercenary ran in, but was met with a whack from the chair that sent him tumbling over the top rope.
Predator's sneak attack was met by a chair to the face. The blow ripped Predator's mask as the top of the chair smashed his temple. Remembering his conversation with Hensley earlier, Marc saw his opportunity to "soften" predator up their match Wednesday night. He'd make Hensley eat those words. As Predator crawled to the ropes to escape, Marc nailed him again in the back with the chair. Predator rolled over to beg for mercy, but was silenced when the steel chair came crashing down in his face. Blood flowed through the opening of his mask as the chair crashed into his face again and again.
The referee tried to step in to stop the carnage, but Marc was a madman. He glared at the referee like a rabid dog when the referee finally stepped in between them to prevent further punishment. Incensed, Marc raised the chair to smash the ref, but was stopped by a tackle from Randy.
"That's enough!" shouted Randy.
Marc stared at Randy with eyes ice cold. He had become caught up in the brutality of the devastation he delivered. As reality set back in, he watched as Handsome and the Mercenaries carried Predator back to the locker room.
"It's enough for now," he said.
Chapter Eleven
"What the hell was all that?" demanded Randy as the trio entered the locker room.
"You guys looked like you could use a little help," Marc answered sarcastically.
"Are you crazy?" You were swinging that chair around like a maniac. You were gonna hit the damn ref if I hadn't stopped you."
"Ok, so I owe you one. Where the hell were you when I was out cold on the floor? I could have broken my damn neck for all you knew. Thanks for having my back, asshole."
"Bullshit!" Rocky interjected. "Who the hell do you think told you to stay under the ring? You were mumbling about trying to get back in the ring. I told you to stay down until you're head cleared. While I was nursing your ass, I got jumped by Predator and Randy got double teamed by the Mercenaries. So, don't give me that crap."
"I don't remember any of that," Marc claimed.
"You must have hit your head pretty hard," Randy chimed in. "That's a hell of a lump. You might want to get checked out."
Marc swiped his hand across his forehead. Sure enough, there was a huge knot above his eyebrow. It felt like a potato had sprouted on his skull.
"You might have been a little more careful if you weren't stoned," accused Rocky. "I told you not to smoke that stuff until after the matches. Out there swinging a chair around everyone in sight. If I knew you couldn't handle it, I would have never given you the damn joint. You're liable to get us all suspended."
Once again, Marc lost control to his emotions. He stood nose to nose with Rocky. "First of all, I told you I wasn't high! Second of all, Hensley's not gonna find out anything. The only ones who know about that stupid joint are the three of us. Hell, you're the one who gave me the damn thing. If Hensley or anyone else says something about it, I'm coming to look for you. For all the crap that I've covered your asses for, now you're gonna threaten me?"
"That's not what I was saying," Rocky answered.
"Well, that's what it sounded like to me," Marc sneered.
"I'm just saying you were acting like a wild man out there. You sure as hell weren't acting like yourself."
"Maybe you don't know me as good as you think," Marc countered.
"What's that supposed to mean? Besides, we were in the running for a shot at the tag titles. "Thanks to the disqualification you caused, we'll probably drop down on the contender list. Randy and I have busted our asses to get a shot at the belts."
Marc laughed in his face. "You don't get it, do you? There weren't any TV cameras or photographers out there. Hell, I wish they were here. Those fans cheered the loudest when I was beating the hell out of Predator with the chair. They were eating it up. It ain't your win-loss record that gets you the title match. It's how much money Hensley thinks the fans will pay to see you. If Hensley had been here tonight to hear those bloodthirsty fans, you guys would be wrestling for the belts Wednesday night. But he wasn't here. That match didn't mean anything."
"Alright guys. You two can argue all night if you want. Why don't you say we forget all this and go grab a beer?" Randy asked trying to ease the tension.
Marc stuck his hand out to Rocky. "We can go right now, or we can grab a beer and forget this crap."
Rocky shook his hand. "Let's go get drunk," he said. "You might want to stop by the ER and have that knot checked out first though."
"I think he's trying to tell you that you need to have your head examined," Randy ribbed.
The three finally shared a laugh after all of the tension. "You're probably right, but then again, I probably should have done that a long time ago," Marc joked back.
***************
Marc knew he would probably catch it from Alexis when he got home. They hadn't spoken to each other since dinner the previous night, the extra beers keeping him out later would add fuel to the fire. He didn't care. The stress he had accumulated over the past week had weighed him down. He needed the time to unwind.
"Hey Honey," Colleen said as she sat beside him at the bar. "Oh my. Are you ok? I saw you hit your head, but I didn't know you hit it that hard," she said noticing
the lump on his forehead.
"The swelling will go down eventually. Right now, I can't feel anything anyway."
"I can make it feel better. You just need some TLC."
Marc smiled. "Yeah, I probably do."
"Well, how about it?"
"Look, Colleen, you're beautiful, scratch that, gorgeous, but you know I'm married."
"I'm not asking you to divorce your wife. You know, sooner or later, I'm going to find me someone else. A girl gets tired of being rejected."
"Damn, she's gorgeous," Marc thought to himself. "I guess we need to do something about that," he said.
"Come with me," she said grabbing his hand.
"Where are we going?"
"My place," she answered.
"Whoa, wait a minute," he argued.
Collen stopped, turned around, grabbed Marc's head with both hands, and planted her lips against Marc's. With her seductive, green eyes, she looked directly into his bewildered eyes. "Let's go", she said softly.
Hypnotized by her seduction, Marc followed.
Chapter Twelve
Marc lay in bed as Alexis slept. He was expecting to catch hell for coming in so late, but she didn't wait up for him this time. As the sunlight began beaming through the window, he gazed at her unfiltered beauty. She was beautiful. As he admired her beauty, he thought about meeting her for the first time in Chicago. Her friends had told her that she was crazy for marrying a wrestler. Leaving her friends and her career behind, she followed her heart and began a new life with Marc. She had given everything up for him.
He thought about the events of the past week. He had been in a dark place that culminated last night in Vidalia. He had almost attacked a fan, gotten high, fought with Rocky, and then there was Colleen. What had happened to him? He was better than all that. Maybe it was the pressure of match with Predator. It couldn't be that, though. He had much more high profile matches than that before and had never stressed like he has been lately.
Maybe it was his own insecurities that had taken him to the abyss that he had been lost in lately. His bitterness toward Murphy certainly hadn't helped. The fact that Murphy seemed to be Brighton's local hero and fan favorite irked him. Marc had shed buckets of blood fighting against him when they were rivals. Now, they can't get enough of Murphy. If it wasn't for Marc accepting Murphy's offer to team, the fans would still be booing him. Murphy hadn't changed. He was still the same, self-centered prick that he had always been. He had just learned to manipulate the fans to his advantage.