Welcome once again to The Rise and Fall of an Underdog and the story of Jake’s journey into the world of professional wrestling. We’re nearing the end of our story, only 3 more editions to come. If you’ve missed any, you can now check on the homepage of the site for a list of all the previous posts. And if you have any questions or comments I can always be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks again for reading and enjoy.
Jake couldn’t stop thinking about The Crusher. Not the fact that he had knocked him out with one punch, but the fact that he had been so adamant about Jake getting in touch with his mother. Why would he care so much? And what was up? Jake made a decision to stop by his Mom’s house after his last delivery of the day.
Jake arrived at the house of one of the biggest meatheads he had ever met; an alright guy, an alright wrestler, but a meathead nevertheless. He loaded him up with enough pills to tranquilize a horse and enough syringes to kill one. He tried to make a quick escape from the house but his client would hear none of it. There was a party in full swing, despite the fact it was barely noon, and Mr Meathead wanted Jake to join in on the fun. Jake sometimes wished he had one of those little angels and devils on each of his shoulders telling him the right and wrong thing to do. Maybe that would stop him from getting into situations like this. But for all he knew he had two devils on his shoulders and a monkey on his back. He would visit his Mom after one drink.
As anyone with a drinking problem knows, there is no such thing as ‘just one drink’. Pretty soon Jake was doing shots with the boys and having an even better time with the girls. They all headed to a hot tub in the back garden and eventually ended up wresting on the grass in their wet shorts as the girls cheered them on. Jake took a pretty nasty elbow to the nose and could only laugh as blood poured down his face and the girls shrieked as they fled to get him ice and tend to his wound. Next came the dope and pills and the party was really going strong. Jake ended up in another kind of wrestling match with three young ladies and a bottle of tequila. Their bodies, still wet and shiny from the hot tub, rubbed together and collapsed in a sweaty mess on the floor. Jake dosed for a bit and when he glanced at his watch in a half asleep, half stoned daze, he was startled to see that it now almost midnight. He quickly dressed, despite the pleading of the three still naked young ladies, thanked his host and headed to his car. He was determined to see his mother no matter what kind of state he was in.
Jake drove like a cautious old man, slower than he ever had, because he knew that any cop in the world would throw his ass straight into jail; do not pass go, do not collect $200! He arrived at his mother’s, un-arrested, just after midnight. He walked as straight a line as he could up to the door and tried the key which he still kept on his keychain. At first he thought it was his inebriated state but he soon realised that the locks had been changed. This infuriated Jake and he began to pound on the door and ring the bell over and over again. All the lights in the house came on in succession and he could see his mother peak out from behind the curtains. She swung open the screen door and glared at Jake.
“I should have known it would be you at this hour.” she said through a yawn as she finished tying up her bathrobe. “Come in before the neighbours call the cops for God’s sake!”
“I see you’ve changed the locks on me.” Jake sneered as he brushed past his mother and headed to the fridge.
She chuckled “And I think you can see why! Look at the state of you Jake. I haven’t seen you in months and you show up smelling like hell and looking even worse.”
“I see some things never change!”
“Tell me about it Jakey.”
Jake looked at his mother in the florescent glow of the kitchen lights. Something was wrong. She looked too thin and she had deep bags under her eyes.
“What’s with the turban?” Jake questioned as he pointed to his mother’s new headgear.
She just stared at Jake, removed the floral print turban and revealed her bald head. “I’ve got cancer Jakey. Thanks for askin'”
Jake didn’t know what to say. He put down the carton of milk he was drinking and plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table. All of a sudden all he could feel was anger rising in his chest. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know how to deal with it. So he began shouting.
“This is great! I’m your son, you’re own flesh and blood, all you’ve got in the world and you can’t even tell me something like this! I’ve get to get a visit from some condescending old man telling me there’s something wrong with my mother!”
“Is this the same old man you punched in the face and laughed at? You make me sick sometimes Jakey. And I know sick, trust me.”
She began to cough and had to lean against the counter. Jake went to help her but before he could his mother’s bedroom door opened and the Crusher came down and took Jake’s mother by the hand.
“What the hell is this?!” Jake screamed.
“Chris has been there for me when I had no one else Jake. He’s been good to me and I just couldn’t make it through this without him. I’m happy for the first time in years Jakey and I just would hope that you could appreciate that.”
The Crusher said nothing. He just held onto Jake’s mother and stared at Jake from underneath a face full of bandages and two black eyes. Jake quickly jumped up from his chair, slamming it into the table. He headed for the door.
“Great! So now you’ve replaced me as well! This gets better by the minute!”
“I can’t replace something that’s not there Jakey!”
“You know what, I’m glad you’ve both got each other because now you can both just leave me the hell alone!” Jake screamed through tears as he swung open the back door.
“It’s terminal Jake” his mother said as he walked out the door. This didn’t stop him though. He threw his car into reverse and sped down the road. This time he didn’t care about cops or jail, he just had to get out of there. He drove straight back to the party which was still in full swing. Pretty soon he was throwing back shots and dancing on the sofas. He hoped that no one could see the tears streaming down his face as he danced. Just to make sure he gave a warrior yell and poured his drink in his face. Everyone cheered and the party raged on.
Jake wouldn’t even remember making it home that night but he was actually glad to wake up in his own bed, and alone. Although he felt like death, and actually regretted the night before, he still made his way to work. He received his usual text message from Dr Zebenkow and headed to their pharmacy of choice. Jake wore dark sunglasses as he drank from a strong black coffee. Maybe it was the hangover or the shock that he still felt from learning of his mother’s disease, but Jake failed to notice the suspicious looking unmarked van parked just outside the pharmacy. He also failed to notice the two men wearing ear pieces and chatting at the front of the pharmacy. Maybe it was the hangover, either way, things were about to get worse for Jake than any hangover he’d ever had before.