The Past Revisited

Character: Ken Kaze

Within the past couple of weeks, determined and impassioned warfare had commenced amongst several wrestlers of the Jolt Wrestling corporation. Specifically speaking: Ken Kaze and Polar.

It started with a simple quick-tempered tantrum from Polar that lead to an innocent bystander in George the Trashcan to be victimized. Couple that with a ferocious assault orchestrated by Kaze later, and the roots of the seed had already been dispersed throughout the soil. An interference as an act of vengeance on part of Polar afterward simply added fuel to the fire, as Ken lost his match to “Simply Crazy” Chris Mezz.

The following Tuesday Night Intense lead to more confrontations, which weren’t any more civil than their previous altercations. A death-threatening exclamation spray painted on the circumference of George later, and a third showdown had occurred. Mysterious circumstances allowed for there to be no harm done to either individual until Polar himself had received the same death threat. The disagreements between the two seemed as if they could have been settled in the Battle Royale to take place soon after; however, destiny proclaimed that not to be as kerosene had been thrown into the brewing campfire.

On the third Intense, the eve of pay-per-view extravaganza in the Retort, with both individuals being involved in near-death experiences, everyone was confused as they threw the blame in every direction humanly possible. A descending metal beam and a speeding car later, the Hero of Hardcore and the Iceman were ready to annihilate each other then and there. When both men had finally taken the time to examine their respective locker rooms, they both took comfort in finding another threatening message spray painted across the walls. Yes, they took comfort because they both finally had good enough reason to assassinate the other. However, rather than a repeat of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, the conflict finally seemed to be resolved as both men met inside the squared circle. A war of words raged until the illustrious Jolt Wrestling CEO, American Hero III, let his presence be known and announced the Winner Takes George match that would take place at the Retort between the two.

All of the events that had transpired over the past three weeks had finally reached its culmination. Tonight, later on, the conclusion to this intense rivalry would be seen.

This was the reason why the Jolt Resident Moron’s image was produced on the RaveTron, much to the approval of the sold-out crowd at the Fleet Center in Boston, Massachusetts. He stood inside his particular locker room, watching the television set positioned atop a desk against the wall. The locker room was moderately empty, with the likes of the TV, as well as the desk it was set upon, a couch sitting in front of the TV and desk, and a wooden table against the wall behind the couch. Lying comfortably on the couch was exactly where Ken Kaze was at.

He sat up before coming to a vertical base as he outstretched his hands and yawned.

“Gonna be a crazy night,” he muttered to no one in particular. “But, at the end of the night, it’s gonna be a great night as I rip that cockbox to shreds.” Of course, cockbox referred to Polar.

Spontaneously, the lights began to flicker until all illumination ceased to exist inside the somewhat content abode of Kaze. Shortly after, a strip of illumination produced itself from the far left corner as the hinges of a door creaked open. Not exactly sure what had just allowed for his door to open, nor sure what exactly was going on period, Ken decided to investigate as he scurried toward the door in the corner. The light switch was flipped on.

He scanned the entire locker room for approximately thirty seconds, seeing nothing in particular. Or, at least, it seemed as if he had seen nothing. There had been an addition made to the room in the midst of the light-outage, it seemed. Something that had not been there before. Perched on top of the wooden table behind the sofa was a wrestling championship belt. The shifty eyes of the Hardcore Moron continued to scan the room, looking for anymore irregularities. Deciding everything was okay, he approached the table.

“What the fuck is this all about?” he queried under his breath.

As he grasped the championship belt with his hands, he lifted it in the air so he could see. Almost immediately, he recognized what it was. It was his coveted NTICW Extreme Championship. He had parted ways with this title many years ago after the fallout of the former wrestling promotion. When he was left stranded, the forever remaining NTICW Extreme Champion, he decided to donate it to charity feeling as if they needed it more than he did. Thus, he gave it to a rather poor family of dumpsters. And he donated it to that poor family of dumpsters in the exact same city he was in at that exact moment.

He marveled at the beautiful glimmer of the gold, as it reflected the illumination from the fluorescent lights from above. This was his baby back in the day. This was everything he had worked hard for, all in the form of a simple championship belt. And just how it had found its way back to its rightful owner was beyond him.

“This shit’s not right. This couldn’t have been Polar – he had no idea. But who – who does?”

The Jolt production crew left the Hero of Hardcore to ponder his query as the RaveTron flickered off. Even the diehard, sold-out fans in attendance pondered an identical question to Ken’s. Who had done this? For what reason? Was it even someone else? Perhaps it was another mindgame on behalf of Polar.

Indeed, it had to have been the Iceman’s doing. This was the final step to the mental breakdown he had been putting his opposition through over the past course of events. Everything had been going to plan, in Polar’s mind, and this sight had proved it.