Keeping Up With Brawl

Just to update all of you, this is life as I currently know it. I work late hours in a bakery and do stand up comedy while waiting for my girlfriend to graduate from college. I've been at it for two weeks now and so far so good. I learned how to drive the truck at work. Driving the truck brings me peace during my work day. I got to know my manager, Cliff, well as we made deliveries and he is a stand up human being. He's been married twice and has been with his current wife for twenty years now. They use to live in Vermont. They moved to Florida to get away from his ex-wife. One day Cliff was driving and saw a car with Vermont plates. He pulled up to the vehicle and sure enough it was his ex-wife. Her and her new boyfriend spend their summers in Gainesville. Life is too much irony sometimes.

I see myself doing this until the end of the year. Then, I think it will be time to pack up shop and move. I'm going to apply for a job as a copyrighter in Chicago. It's not so much the job but the town that has got me excited. I've got family in Chicago and it's a great place to practice comedy. My friend Calvin went there last weekend and hearing about his trip made me nostalgic for a visit. That job in Chicago is looking more ideal everyday.

If that doesn't work out then I'll apply to grad school somewhere in state. Whether it be here, Orlando or back home in Miami. I was depressed for a bit but lately I've taken a step back and started to see my options open up. I'm young and talented so there's a place for me in this world. It's up to me to find it.

On a final note, I've found the key to sharpening my stage presence. Suits. In particular, suit jackets. I did a show Thursday night and I felt the most comfortable I've ever felt on stage. It showed too and all because I was wearing a suit jacket. Now, the suits are part of my look. Trust me. I can wear the fuck out of a suit.

That will rap things up for now. I want everyone who reads this to think about their five favorite films of all time. I've been trying to compile a list and it isn't easy. Makes me curious to see what others may put on theirs. Later.

"They're not gonna catch us. We're on a mission from God."

Sour Cream

Management at Dunkin Donuts is utterly bizarre. Last night they sent me to another location for training but that training consisted of me watching a guy do everything I've already been taught how to do for six hours. The guys training me didn't even know what the purpose of having me there was. I'm a bit afraid that the hours of this job are warping my behavior somehow. I feel more bitter and angrier. Not at the donuts but more of my status in life. I work a graveyard shift in a donut shop. Truth be told, I'm embarrassed to tell anyone I work with that I graduated from college. No one else there has. I'm afraid I'll be looked at like some kind of space alien. Someone will say, "You didn't have to go to school to be a donut baker," and I will feel like dying right then and there.

There are moments when I'm at work and I think about just moving away. Moving away and starting fresh. Where no one knows me and I can start a new reputation. Not that I'm ashamed of my current reputation. I've got two parts of me, one I loath and one I love. I loathe the guy who's working a job he hates but I love the guy who gets up on stage and makes people laugh. I know that the guy I love can't exist without the guy I loathe.

There's a big emotional girl beneath this pasty white flesh. I've been crying the last two days. Monday I woke up crying after a bizarre dream. I don't recall what it was about but I remember something or someone uttered, "I love you," and then I'm sitting up in bed hysterical and very much afraid. Then yesterday I went to go see Toy Story 3 and there was nothing I could do to keep from balling up. The movie made me nostalgic to be a kid again. It made me wish I wasn't grown up and that the world was however I imagined it to be. It was the unconditional love that Woody showed for Andy that moved me the most. It feels silly to have an emotional connection with an inanimate object but I understand it. I'm going to stop writing before I start crying again.

"There's a snake in my boot."

Not Another Day

Thursday night was my first night back in the work force. I forgot how it felt to break my back over things that mean very little to me. For instance, making sure that every single jelly munchkin is filled with jelly. I have to do that one by one and the repetitiveness of it drives me insane. As far as making first impressions go, I certainly made a unique one. My shift was started at 10pm and I was already tired because I had spent the previous night drinking and keeping Australia from invading into Asia. I spent my Thursday mostly hungover.

I showed up and the front of the store was closed down so I had to go around the back. I had to rest of my paper work with me and it was raining so I concealed it underneath my shirt. What I didn't know is that no one had informed anyone that I was starting that night. I also hadn't been given a uniform yet so I showed up in street clothes. Here I am, lazily walking up to the back room of the store, something hidden underneath my shirt at 10pm on a rainy night and no one has any idea who I am. Naturally, the first person to see me thinks I'm robbing the place.

His reaction was something to this extent, "Oh shit! Listen, man. Take whatever you want. I'll even help you. Just let me hold $200 and let me tell the cops you made me eat some of these donuts. But don't given the money here. They've got cameras. I'll meet you around the corner."

So like I said, a unique first impression. The job can be fun but sucky at the same time. Fun to decorate donuts. Sucky to clean the oven.

"You must lash out with every limb, like the octopus who plays the drums."

Time To Make The Donuts

After my recent setback in the job search, I am proud to say that I have bounced back. Friday morning I marched right into Dunkin Donuts in a button down shirt that didn't quite fit me and got the job. Hell yeah. Money money. This is the response I gave that sealed the deal, "I watch a lot of baseball. As an employee, I think of myself as a utility player. You put me at any position and I'm going to give you the A effort." Boom. Feel free to use that in your next job interview but be sure to say it with swagger.

What's the job? I am a donut baker. I feel like this position suits me well for two reasons. The first one being that I don't have to talk to any customers. The only mouthing off I'm going to get is from a strawberry frosted donut. The other reason is I don't have to make any of those stupid sandwiches or coffee drinks. I love donuts but I feel like having to make coffee would drive me insane. Mostly because it tastes like tar and I have to put in four packets of sugar to make it tolerable. Even then, it tastes like gulping down a full ash tray. So to hell with all you coffee drinkers. I run on adrenaline.

There are 4 comedy shows here in the town of Gainesville. Like I always do, I make an analogy between them and pro wrestling. The monday show at Gator City is the equivalent of Smackdown and last night was my debut. I was immediately met with a challenge upon reaching the stage. Some woman kept yelling, "Go Gators," at me. So was pissing me off so I let her have it. I called her a retarded parrot. I let her know how much I hated her. The crowd was cheering me on and I was rewarded with two shots from the bar. Being mean to women earns you alcohol? My girlfriend is in for a world of trouble. Once that was over I made the mistake of doing my material. Regardless, I found it to be a strong and successful debut on the Smackdown roster. I made an impact and soon enough, I'll be gunning for the Intercontinental championship.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that there is a naked woman!"

Adventures In Unemployment

Made a new break in my quest for employment. I had a visit with the career resource center on campus and they told me about all these different agencies that work on finding jobs and internships for college students. The good people at the CRC are helping me become a master of my domain. Finding a part time job hasn't become any easier though. I'm looking in on working as a realtor. I also hear that Dunkin Donuts is hiring so hot dog. I can't wait to sneak bites of a bavarian cream filled donut while shooing away the flies. I like their coffee, though. That's pretty irrelevant as I don't drink coffee. I could be a pizza delivery driver but I hear that's is easy job to get killed doing. Second only behind taxi driver. Am I willing to die over some pizza? I hope that's not on the job application.

So since I don't have a job, what the fuck is it I do all day? Writing for this blog and stand up material are obvious answers but they don't take up a great part of my day. Here are some other ways I pass the time.

Masturbating: I guess this is an obvious answer also. I wake up at about 1pm and start surfing for porn on the internet to take care of my afternoon wood. I like the ones with a story but I can never seem to make it to the end.

Fantasy Baseball: I think about chicks in tight t-shirts boning on the infield grass. That and scream at Mark Texiera for having a .220 batting average.

Wishing: Mostly this consists of hoping Wells Fargo starts billing someone else for me credit card charges and that person is a billionaire with no time to check his charges and just pays my bill without complaining about it. I wish for that and a Panda Express to be a wing in my house.

That's enough of this. Let's just wish for more wishes like any smart person would.

"Here's to the pencil pushers. May they all get lead poisoning."

The Mail Always Fails

I am now taking issue with the United States Postal Service. No, it has nothing to do with the fake check that they assisted in delivering to my house. While it did make me angry, it did not bring me to my breaking point. I'm talking about another isolated incident. Last week, I received someone else's mail at my home. The address said 631 on it. I moved into this neighborhood a few weeks ago and I considered this an opportunity to get acquainted with the neighborhood and do a good deed. I went in search of house 631 to put the mail in it's rightful place.
My house number is 561 so I had no clue is to where 631 would be in relation to where I live. It didn't take too long though. I put their mail in the box and was on my way, happy that I could do something neighborly. On my way back I noticed that the house next door to me had the numbers 631 on it. I have no idea how I did this but I put the mail in the wrong fucking mail box. I headed back to the other house to correct my mistake; knowing fully that doing so will make it appear that I am stealing their mail. I figured that if I were to be caught, I could provide a reasonable explanation to clear matters up.
I took the mail out of the box and sure enough some goon comes charging out of the house; looking to make a citizen's arrest. Allow me to transcribe the conversation that took place.

"What are you doing? You can't take my mail."
"I'm not stealing it. I'm taking it back because I put it here."
"It's still mine. It was in my box."
"No. It's not yours. I'm going to return where it belongs."
"So it belongs to you then?"
"No, it isn't mine and it isn't yours."
"Why did you put someone else's mail in my box?"

We spent the next ten minutes playing Abbot and Castillo; trying to figure out who's on first. The post office framed me. I wanted to do a nice thing and they made me look like a lunatic. I made it onto the Neighborhood Watch's Most Wanted list. I am now in constant protest of the United States Postal Service. I protest by drinking heavily and headbutting all the mail boxes on my block. Screw your government programs.

"I haven't missed you. In fact, I've been revoltingly unfaithful to you."

DreamChaser

It has been a week of some highs and lows but I currently stand at a low. That well-paying job I had was a scam and I feel like a fool for not knowing it all along. There is no Roberts Filter Group and there is no orphanage in Malaysia. Nothing but a bunch of deception. I went from thinking I was going to have $500 in my pocket this weekend to hoping that I get hired at the cracker barrel. Then, I got home to Miami today to find out that my cat, Ralph, had died. I had home since I was in the second grade and he probably was the sweetest creature I've ever come into contact with. I loved that cat.

I took my friend out for his birthday tonight. He had to work until 7pm on a friday on his birthday and then he couldn't stay at too late because he has to be back at work at 6:30 in the morning. He's not going to see a single day off for the next two weeks. I told my dad about this and he asked me if I wanted the same thing for myself. I have no idea.

He's concerned about me though. He's worried that I'll take a job just for the money and never have the time to do the things I want. He wants me to work at something I love even if it means doing it for free. He's pushing me to pick up an internship, go back to school and even move back home to Miami to do it.

I don't know why that all seems easier said then done. It just happens to be easier to chase money than to chase dreams. Truth is, I'm afraid the move from Gainesville right now, even if it means I have a better shot of chasing a dream. My girl is there. All my friends are there. I feel like the more I try to grow up, the harder it gets. I thought graduating meant moving forward but instead I feel like I took two steps forward just to take two steps back. I'm undergoing an identity crisis. I don't know where I belong.

"Rule number one; embrace the darkness. Rule number two; kill your fear. And rule number three; live for death."

Noble Causes

The personal assistant job seems pretty legit now. My first check is supposed to be delivered to me tomorrow and I'm making 500 bones. I'm still cautious about the whole thing and I believe that's rightfully so for a few reasons. First, my original assignment was to go to a toy store and buy a bunch of toys for an orphanage. That sounds noble and easy but last night I found out that the orphanage is in Malaysia. Now, instead of buying these toys, I'm suppose to send the money to the orphanage via Western Union. I ask myself why he couldn't send the money order himself. I feel a little odd doing business with a Malaysian orphanage with my first week on the job. I've found an explanation though. He had wanted me to buy the toys and ship them but then realized that the shipping would be costly. I looked at the tracking number on the check and it was processed on Monday. Meaning, he had already sent me the check before he realized how much having me ship the toys myself would cost. Even if I do get swindled out of my savings, at least it's for the children, right?

Another strange occurrence is that today I received an e-mail asking for a P.A. that was the same verbatim that my current employer sent me. There are even similar details such as being 49 years old and having a previous P.A. 6 months ago. The only difference is this guy works as a pathologist for World Hope International. Is this some kind of fluke email or is there some kind of Robin Hood version of Skynet going on? My room mate, Dave has a theory that there is this AI working for the greater good of mankind and I'm just a pawn. Like, the AI is stealing funds from banks and then sending it to me to do good with it. I feel I should be creeped out but this air of nobility around it has got me sticking around. My codename is Little John.

My stand up comedy act is doing well. Last week I drove to Orlando to perform at an open mic and I was just pleased that everyone payed attention to me. Last night, I performed at one of my usual spots. I decided to let loose with it and I saw some good results. I've always been self-conscoius about my stage presence but I'm starting to feel it come around. It makes me thankful for my family of comics and to everyone out there who has been giving me undying support.

"Look at us. We're like a couple of girls on the last day of camp."

Dangerous Maximus

Gladiators were the men of envy in Ancient Rome. They beat and slashed their way from arena to arena. They did it in front of thousands of spectators. The nastiest of the gladiatorswere rewarded for their brutality by the affections of the fans. People came out and cheered fortheir favorite fighters to disembowel and decapitate any poor bastard. This dated as far back as310 BC. In 2008, it continues. Only we don't use the name "gladiator" anymore. Instead, we call them "wrestlers."

If you're a ten year old wrestling fan, stop reading now. Wrestling isn't real. Not real in the sense that no one is trying to hurt each other. The last word to use to describe wrestling is fake.You have to have balls of steel to step into the squared circle. There's nothing fake about thebroken bones and missing teeth that come out of this business. A better word to use is staged.

The winners are planned out in advance and guys are working together rather than competing but it still takes an amazing amount of athleticism and physical stamina. One thing that doesn't change is that the champion is the top dog. In the Championship Wrestling Coalition (CWC), Dangerous Maximus was that top dog.

Sullivan 'Sully' Morris a.k.a. Dangerous Maximus was formerly The Jester at the Prestige Wrestling League and Baron Von Badd at Elite Action. He had finally found his niche here in theCWC and after enough clawing, was rewarded for his efforts by being named the HeavyweightChampion. He had been touring with the company for an entire year now. He was always the

first guy there to set up the ring and the last one to leave.

For him and his fellow gladiators, a different city filled in for Rome and a different building filled in for the Coliseum every night. Tonight, it was the Pensacola Civic Center in Pensacola, Florida. The fans poured into the confines with merchandise dedicated to Dangerous Maximus.

They had on his shirts and others made signs declaring that "Maximus Is King." The fans would be rewarded for their loyalty as the main event was booked as Dangerous Maximus vs. Goliath Gruesome for the Heavyweight championship. Guys were jealous of Sully in the back because they all wanted to taste the gold. Kasper Jackson was no different. Kasper Jackson a.k.a. Goliath Gruesome was CWC's top heel and had been feuding with Sully for three months. He was repeatedly given titles opportunities and was repeatedly booked to lose. He was bigger than any other guy in the locker room and would be the

true champ if these fights were for real. As big as he was, he was overlooked. Tonight would be another attempt at the title that would end in a losing effort.

Sully was being taped up by a trainer when he was approached by Paul Williams a.k.a Deadly D. Paul and Sully had held the CWC tag team titles before Sully was pushed to the top of the card and made champ. Paul was left behind on the mid-card.

"Pat wants to see you in his office before you hit the ring," Paul informed.

"Yeah? Any idea what for?" Jacob 'Pat' Patrick was the head promoter of CWC. He booked the matches and the winners. He was the man who decided your fate.

"No idea." Paul went from business to a more casual demeanor. "So you're going to beat Kasper for what...like the second time this month?"

"I guess so. As long as Pat keeps booking it."

"He should wise up and elevate some of the other talent around here. You know, keep things fresh."

The trainer finished up the tape job on Sully's right ankle. Sully slipped his boots on. There was hardly any talking to him before a match. That's how focused and dedicated he was. He picked up the gold and headed out the door to see Pat without a goodbye to Paul.

Sully opened the door to Pat's office without knocking. He peered inside to see Pat's feet up on the desk. Pat was having a conversation with Kasper that came to a halt with Sully's arrival. Pat gave Kasper a wink and motioned him out the door so he could have a private word with Sully. Pat was short, bald and wore a set of horn rimmed glasses. Kasper complied to Pat's

orders but not before taking a long lingering stare at Sully. Pat took a Cuban cigar out of the breast pocket of his jacket and lit it up. Business and pleasure always went hand and hand with Pat.

"How is it going champ? Ready to main event?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Patrick."

Pat gave a smile like the cat that ate the canary. "You've been my champ for about six months and it's been good for business. Your merchandise outsells all these over guys and there's no need to be modest. The fans are out here tonight to see you defend that belt." Pat took a long drag from the cigar and exhaled through his nostrils. "Your success has been good but it's also

made things predictable. There's no intrigue because the great Dangerous Maximus always wins."

"What's this about?"

"I think you already know. I'm tired and the other guys here are tired. We're tired of seeing Dangerous Maximus as the champ. So there's a change of plans. Tonight, Danger is dropping the belt to Goliath."

"Come on, Pat. Your going to let these other guys pull your strings? The fans want me as champ because I bust my ass harder than everyone. I stick around and sign autographs while the other guys go to some titty bar and buy blow."

"The fans want you so as long as I want you! They'll eat up whatever I serve them. You've had your spotlight long enough. It's about time to spread the wealth. You're dropping the belt and then taking a back seat in the mid card. Fans will still buy your shit and shout your name. Now get the fuck out there and give them a show."

Sully damn near tore the door off the hinges as he left. Some guys chose to wait and earn their shots while other guys chose to play politics and bitch to earn theirs. Sully's pride come from accomplishing all he does without sucking a single dick or kissing an ass. The belt doesn't make the guy wearing it a champion, the guy wearing the belt makes it a championship. That doesn't happen with guys like Goliath but Sully had no choice but to play ball. He'd be fired if he didn't. He already won the belt once, he could surely win it again no matter how long he would have to toil on the mid card.

Sully made his way to the entrance tunnel. He could hear Goliath's music playing over the arena PA. The ring announcer spoke up over it.

"Introducing first, the challenger. Weighing in tonight at 275 lbs, he hails from Detroit, Michigan, he is Goliath Gruesome!"

The jeers rung out from the eager fans. Sully stood, trying to get a hold of himself. He couldn't go out there upset. For his character, he had to go out there cool and confident. 'Brand New God' by Danzig came on over the loud speakers and that was his cue. It was show time.

"Making his way to the ring, weighing in tonight at 245 lbs, he hails from Elkhart, Indiana. He is the Championship Wrestling Coalition Heavyweight Champion, he is Dangerous Maximus!"

The roar of the crowd shook the Pensacola Civic Center as soon as the announcer uttered his name. Sully stomped down the entrance way. Fans were falling over the security railings to try and touch him. Sully could only keep his gaze on Goliath. Goliath grinned as his ebony flesh glistened under the lights. Sully gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. Tonight, Goliath would

own a victory over him.

Sully had his eyes locked on Goliath and didn't notice Deadly D racing down the entrance way behind him. Deadly D rushed in like Emmet Smith and planted a fist into the back of Sully's head. Before Sully could face his assailant, Deadly D drove a knee deep into his gut. Sully felt all of the air leave him and then had his face smashed into the side of the ring. Jacob Patrick wasn't

too far behind as he strolled down to the ring. The fans barked loudly as Pat ordered D to put Sully in the ring.

The beating continued as Deadly D and Goliath stomped a mud hole into Sully. Goliath torethe title belt off of Sully and began whipping him with it. Pat grabbed the microphone from the ring announcer and ordered Deadly D to hold up the battered Sully. Pat pulled a dog chain out of his pocket and carefully wrapped it around his fist. Pat held the mic up to his lips,"You're

wondering what all this is for, aren't you? Well, I have to make sure that you play ball."

Pat pulled his loaded fist back and struck it across Sully's cranium. He hit the floor and was soon wearing a crimson mask. Pat waved the pain off of his fist. The three of them stood over Sully laughing. Every fan was out of their seat and screaming but they all thought this was part of the show. They didn't know that it was all very real. Sully laid on the floor a man betrayed

and disgraced.

Pat and Deadly D slid out of the ring. Pat had Deadly fetch him a chair so he could have a front row seat for the downfall of Dangerous Maximus. Pat ordered the bell to be rung and for the referee to conduct the match. Sully could only see bright lights and blood when he opened his eyes. He felt the weight of Goliath come down on him with a big splash. Goliath had his leg

hooked for the pin. The ref got down to make the count.

1...2...

All Sully had to do was stay down for a second longer and his night would be over. Jacob Patrick would have no further need to torture him but that would be doing him a favor. Sully got his shoulder up before the ref could count 3 and make Goliath Gruesome the new champ. He was going to be the pimple on Pat's ass. So they wanted a real fight, Sully thought, that's all they had to ask for. Pat, Goliath and Deadly D were stunned by this resiliency.

"Well, don't just look all surprised. Pulverize him!" Pat shouted.

Goliath picked Sully up by the back of the neck and clubbed him with his fists. Goliath had Sully set up for his finisher, a gut wrench power bomb but Sully gave him a head butt right in the baby makers. Goliath yelped and fell to his knees. Sully took off into the ropes for momentum and drove his boot into Goliath's jaw.

"Goddammit! Paul, take care of this asshole," Pat was steaming from the ears.

Deadly D wasn't about to go in the ring without an advantage. He pulled up the ring apron and pulled out a steel chair from underneath. Deadly D stormed the ring with chair in hand and took a swing at Sully. Sully ducked out of the way and gave him a kick to the gut. Deadly D became prone from the blow and allowed himself to be disarmed. Sully took the chair andplastered it over his head. Deadly D would be watching the birdie fly around his head for the rest of the night.

Sully doesn't catch a break after subduing one of his adversaries. Goliath is back on him and lifts him up into a bear hug. Goliath had the strength of Atlas holding up the world as he ground Sully's spine into beef stew with the hold. Sully made a move of desperation and thumbed Goliath in the eye. The hold was broken and Goliath fled around the ring blinded as Sully leaned

up in the corner to catch some rest. Goliath began to gain his vision back and saw Sully standing nicely in the corner. Goliath looked like a bull after a matador as he charged toward Sully in a spearing motion.

Sully could see the bull coming and he flung himself out of the way in time. Goliath couldn't ease up on his momentum. He went in between the turnbuckles and his shoulder collided into the ring post. Goliath retreated back, nursing a tender shoulder and Sully hit him with a neck breaker.

Sully saw the opportunity to go to the top rope. He looked out into the crowd and they were screaming for Dangerous Maximus to finish him. More importantly, Sully saw Pat steaming like a tea kettle. Sully ascended to the top rope and took his leap of fate. The move was framed perfectly and Sully executed the guillotine leg drop. He went for the pin fall but didn't hear the sound of the ref slapping the canvas. Sully looked up to see the ref paralyzed with fear. The ref didn't want to anger the champ but he didn't want to anger his boss.

"You can always find a new job but if you don't count, you'll need a good doctor to rearrange your face," Sully gave the ultimatum.

The threat worked as the ref got down to his knees.

1...2....

The three didn't come. Sully couldn't believe he was going to have to mutilate this guy.

When he got up for an explanation the ref was not present in the ring. Pat had dragged him out of the ring and struck him in the head with the dog chain. Sully stood in the ring and looked down at his newly acquainted nemesis.

"You're not going to be my champ," Pat exclaimed.

Sully searched around and found the title belt. He held it high above his head in defiance.

"If you want to strip me of the gold, you'll have to do it yourself."

Pat couldn't believe how far Sully was willing to go to hold onto the strap. Sully waited for Pat to meet his challenge but every advancement that Pat made to climb in was followed by a moment of hesitation. Sully waited in the ring like a dog waiting for a biscuit. He didn't notice Goliath getting back to his feet. Goliath came from behind and plowed an elbow into Sully's

neck.

Suddenly, Pat had all the courage in the world to get in the ring. Sully went down after the blow and Pat took the opportunity to get a few cheap shots in. Pat then had Goliath bring Sully to his feet and hold him in place. Pat picked up the belt and shoved it into Sully's face.

"This is what you've thrown a big fuss over. Something that isn't even yours. You wanted to live by it so badly so you will die by it." Pat went to concuss Sully with the title but he didn't hit his mark. Sully twisted his way out of Goliath's grasp and left him to take the hit. The hit left the CWC logo on the belt embedded into Goliath's forehead. Goliath fell to the floor for along nap and Pat stood in shock. Pat's mummified state left him vulnerable to get something that was a long time coming. He could feel Sully's hot breath on the back of his neck. Pat made an attempt to flee but Sully had him by the collar of his shirt. Pat was spun around and met nothing but fist. His horn rimmed glasses were snapped in two and his nose could very well have been punched back into his brain.

Sully looked over all the carnage. He very well knew that his career at the CWC was over but the future doesn't matter when you're lost in the present. The fans were chanting his name. He had proven that he was the top dog whether or not he had a golden strap to wear. Just like in Ancient Rome, he had beaten and slashed his way through adversaries to earn his glory. Deadly

D, Goliath Gruesome, Jacob Patrick and the fans knew that Dangerous Maximus could not be beaten.