Crazy

“Thank you for calling Visa customer service. To continue this message in English, press one. Para español, oprema dos.”

AWOL pulls the cell phone from his ear and presses one of the buttons.

“For a balance statement, or to make a payment, press one. To report a card stolen or order a new card, press two. To activate your new card, press three. To-“

The big man brings the phone back down with an irritated sigh, pressing three and cutting off the commentator. He holds the offending new card in his free hand, tapping it on the countertop.

“Please hold while we transfer you to our customer service center. Your call is very important to us.”

He rolls his eyes. The tune of a country music ballad starts in his ears.

“Craaazy, I’m crazy for feeelllinnnnggg so looonneellllyyyyy”

His eyes narrow into a glare, simple irritation clearly being replaced with legitimate anger.

***

With a whir and a click, the tape starts. The quiet hiss of the recorder dutifully reporting dead air issues forth for a second before someone starts to speak.

“This is Dr. Lena Ferraro, in session number one with Mr. Anthony Wolworth on August 3rd, 2009. So, Mr. Wolworth, tell me what brings you here today.”

“My contract with the IWC requires that I go through a psych evaluation prior to any reinstatement. The owner seems to think that I’m an unstable element.” A bitter chuckle emanates from the recording. “Which is ironic, really, since instability is the reason people enjoy watching me in the first place.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They market me as ‘The Big Crazy Bastard,’ Doc. I’m supposed to portray myself as this raging, barely controlled lunatic. If I come back with a clean bill of health, they’re going to have to do some spinning to set things straight.”

“Do you think that that’s likely, given that your employer sent you here?”

An uncomfortable silence settles onto the tape for a moment. Dr. Ferraro is the first voice to return.

“Forgive me for saying so, but from what I’ve seen of this ‘sport,’ you’re trying to get back into, it would seem to me that a person would have to be mentally ill to want to participate in the first place. I mean, grown men bashing themselves senseless with blunt objects for not much money, constant bickering and backstabbing from your co-workers, and a front office that cares only about the bottom line and where seemingly the most important jobs in the company rotate from person to person freely on a monthly basis. Why anyone would put themselves through that, particularly one that had been a part of that life and made it out successfully, is beyond me.”

A bitter laugh issues forth.

“What can I say, doc? There’s truth in advertising.”


***

“I knew, you’d love mee, as long aaaass, you wanteeeedddd.”

AWOL pinches the bridge of his nose, a dark red flush spreading through his cranium.

“And then soomedaaaayyy, You’d leave meee for somebooodyyy neeeeeewwww.”

***

“What motivated your return to the ring?”

“I needed cash. It’s all there in the file, so I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking because I’d like to hear your answer, and see the way you respond to the question. For instance, the way you just tensed up suggests to me that you’re not telling me everything.”

Some shuffling is audible, as if someone is shifting uncomfortably in their chair.

“Maybe I like the competition. It gives me a direction for my life, some reason to wake up every day and get out of bed.”

“Maybe, but there are other arenas where you could explore that without such an intense personal risk.”

An irritated sigh.

“Look, lady. I came back because I needed to come back. There’s no more explanation than that. The IWC is something I’m familiar with, something I could fall back on, and so here I am. What more do you want from me?”

“You could start with being honest, if not with me than with yourself. This is not a trivial question I’m asking. While I can understand your desire to return to a place where you have an established reputation and you’re treated with respect, I can-“

AWOL cuts her off, laughing derisively.


***

“Wooorrryyyy, Whhyyy do I let myyyself woorrryyyy”

***

Porno Lad: Ladies and Gentlemen I know you’re used to me putting out promos so entertaining so amazing that they completely and utterly blow your mind. But this week I just want to talk. I have a lot of things to talk about. See first we got AWOL. The glorious return of AWOL occurred on last week’s riot. The former world champion/commissioner/welfare check collector has returned to the IWC to grace us with his presence. And while I usually wouldn’t care about such an occurrence, he he actually had the gall, the nerve to say that people like me are what is wrong with the IWC. That I am not on the level of his dumb uneducated ass.
AWOL...I know you've been gone awhile and that’s all good and fine but when you decide to take a random shot at me, the best thing to hit the IWC in years I do take offence to it. I take offence to it because, well, you have spent the last few years sitting at home, once and awhile coming in for the occasional paycheck. I have been stealing the whole damn show. I've brought more new viewers to this company then any other star, and people hardly even remember your old fossilized ass.

***

Emily Cage: What are your thoughts on the return of Silencer and AWOL?

Jackson Adams: I am not too worried about these people Emily, really we have two ULW has-beens, coming here to be IWC never will-be’s.

EC: Wow, Jack kind of harsh to state about two returning people who helped make IWC what it is today....

* Jackson just glares at Emily.*

JA: Helped make IWC what it is today? Did I hear you correctly Emily, for fucks sake the "Team Leader" hasn't even helped make IWC what it is today. People like myself, founding roster members of the IWC and the younger generations pouring out their blood, sweat and tears in this ring has helped mold IWC into what it is today Emily. Not the people who just walk in and start demanding that they should be placed in title matches and end up the World Champion. In this business you have to earn what you want, and people like Kingdom, AWOL, and Silencer just ride in on their reputation and take what the real deserving superstars deserve and that's a World Title shot, and a chance to show to the world how talented they really are.

***

Max Craven: Ohhhhh AWOL…if you needed money so badly…why didn’t you just SAY so earlier? You know, Stiffy Productions is in the market for some new talent, and your shiny mushroom cap of a noggin could be JUST what we need for the burgeoning niche market of “bald guy/hot girl” porn…or “bald guy on guy”, if you’re into that sort of thing. And if not, then there’s always rubbing a little bit of oil up there and taking shots from the BACK to accommodate the growing demographic of head-penis fetishists—you know, those people who get all excited down there when they see somebody whose bald head looks like a throbbing member from the back.

***

“Wooondrinnnn, whaaat, in the woooorld, did I doooooooo?”

***

“What?”

“Treated with respect? Are you serious? They have me curtain-jerking this week against two opponents who haven’t been relevant in…well…come to think of it they’ve never been relevant. Somehow the prevailing notion is that since the letters on the door have changed, that somehow this isn’t my federation anymore. Somehow my years of service as a top-billing performer and as GM of this company no longer count. And yet, despite this fact, the perception is that I’m being pushed into the title picture unfairly. Never mind the fact that I’m facing nobodies every week. Some stupid ass rumor article mentions that I’m back in the discussion for wold champion and it’s the fucking gospel around this place. So not only am I insulted by the roster and the booking office on a constant basis, but everyone thinks I’m getting handed titles and opportunities hand over fist at the same time. ”

“I take it that makes you angry.”

“You’re god damned right it does. I built this place with my own goddamned hands, and these miserable SONS OF BITCHES have the NERVE to-“

AWOL cuts himself off abruptly, heavy breathing being the only sound for a moment.

“I think perhaps now we’re getting somewhere.”

***

“Craaazy, for thinkiiing, that my loooove could hold yoooouuuuuu”

***

“So, what, you obviously have some kind of diagnosis in mind, from that smug smile on your face. You’ve seen the tapes, read my file. What’s it going to be? Sociopathy? Schizophrenia? Post traumatic stress disorder?”

“Does it need to be something that dramatic?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The sound of a notebook being set down on a table, followed closely by a pen.

“You said it yourself, you’re supposed to be this image, this Big Crazy Bastard. It has to be a spectacular strain to maintain that all the time. Would it help you to do so if I applied a label to you as extreme as those you listed off?”

Another frustrated sigh.

“What I think, Anthony, is that you need the mantle. You need to be AWOL, and that’s why you returned to IWC. It’s easier to be him, to put yourself back into a world with no rules and no expectations where you can do whatever you damn well please and feel powerful again, than it is to deal with your real problems. AWOL doesn’t have to pay alimony. He doesn’t have to live in a crappy basement apartment and deal with debt collectors every day. He doesn’t have to put up with people asking him annoying questions. He can be just as rude back to them, make their lives miserable, and laugh as he does it. Unfortunately, one of these days you’re going to have to realize that AWOL isn’t really you, and there’s only so much time you can spend hiding behind him. Eventually you’ll have to deal with your own problems, and there will be nothing the Big Crazy Bastard can do to help you.”


***

“I’m craaaazy for tryin,”

***

“I believe you suffer from major depression.”

***

" and crrraaaazzzyyy for cryin,"

***

A final pause, as the words sink in.

“That’s it? That’s your revelation?”

“As I said, it’s not exactly dramatic, but it is a real and serious problem.”

“Let me get this straight. I’ve lost my wife, lost my money, and been forced to return to a job that I despise, and you think it’s news that I’m depressed? You seriously charge a hundred bucks an hour for this?”

“I wouldn’t take it lightly, Anthony. Depression can cripple a person emotionally, and significantly increases your risk of suicide. Now, with your permission, I’d like to discuss treatment options.”

One more sound, the sound of AWOL standing up from his chair and walking towards the door. With a disgusted snort, he wrenches it open and slams it shut behind him.


***

“And I’m crraaazzyyy, for loooovinnn’ yoooooouuuuuu.”

AWOL’s face is a crimson mask, his eyes pinched shut in irritation, as the music finally fades. He sighs in relief as he hears a voice return to the line.

“Your call is very important to us. Please remain on the line and a customer service representative will be with you shortly.”

The blood drains from AWOL’s face almost as rapidly as it initially filled it, and the quiet warble of the guitar returns.

“Craaazy, I’m crazy for feeeeliinnnn’, so looneeelllyyyy”

With a roar, he pulls the phone down away from his ear, smashing it against the tabletop once, twice, and a third time. Circuitry and plastic shatter like shrapnel, flying in all directions, before the former ULW champion hurls the remains with all of his strength against a nearby wall. He immediately holds his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table amongst the smashed circuit boards, his breath coming in ever faster and shallower bursts. His massive frame trembles with barely contained fury, the knuckles of his hands turning white from the tension of his fingernails digging into his scalp. The image slowly fades to blackness as the quiet sound of muffled sobs echoes through the room.

***

“This is Dr. Lena Ferraro, in session number two with Anthony Wolowrth, August 6th, 2009.”

“ I’m glad you decided to return, Anthony.”