Destiny...

Fate...

Why are we really here?

Is everything part of some grand plan?

Or is everything just an accident?

Each of us must find our own answer

To this most ageless of questions.

For, when you live life,

Then you become what you are.

The first faint rays of morning light crept softly across the Calgary sky, silently signaling the arrival of a new day. Below, a few trucks moved along the streets, most of them making deliveries to the yet-to-open shops that were scattered around the city. On a street corner, a man in his forties passed out newspapers to the few people who were out walking, and every now and then a jogger hustled past and nodded or waved to another running in the opposite direction.

Slash Tannon stood on his small balcony, which barely fit one person standing with no room for a chair, and sipped at a cup of bad coffee. The little coffee maker in the room could brew up to 4 cups, but the small bags of ground beans that were provided were hardly of high quality. He contemplated heading over to the small coffee shop down below and across the street, but decided to suffer through what he had for now. Still, his mood wasn't very good at the moment.

He was a multiple former champion in countless organizations, an accomplished wrestler, a successful businessman, an avid hockey player, yet all of that could not hide one fact: He was not a morning person.

So much for the afterglow.

This high-rise Marriott Hotel situated in close proximity to Calgary International Airport was where Tannon had found himself checking into a suite the previous evening. His manager and girlfriend Erin Blade had already took off to New Orleans for the final SW Impulse. He always liked to stay in a hotel the night before going back out on the road, it helped get him in the right frame of mind for what lay ahead. Even though his spacious mansion was located a few mere miles away, there was something comforting about staying in a familiar hotel close to home before flying three thousand miles across the continent.

Hotels in Calgary were much more bearable for Tannon than those scattered about the country, whether they be in large cities or small townships. There were enough celebrities, mainly hockey players in Calgary to keep autograph seekers and paparazzi out of his hair for the most part.

And now, after a quiet, undisturbed evening, it all had to come to an end once again. It was time to hit the road. He had a 10:00 flight to catch, direct to New Orleans, Louisiana, home of this Sunday's edition of Impulse. Even now, as he stood on his confining balcony sipping black tar, it was only 6:30. For some reason, Tannon had felt the need to rise early this morning. It was a beautiful sunrise, after all, a significant departure from the gloomy weather that had been hovering over the region for several days.

Hello there, angel from my nightmare.

"I should have slept in," Tannon muttered to no one in particular, beautiful sunrise or no. He again took a sip of the sledge-like coffee, then, making a disgusted face, he spit it out over the rail of the balcony. His spit was quickly followed by the remainder of his coffee as he drained his cup over the rail.

An audible "Hey, what the hell?" could be heard from down below on street level, and not for the first time Tannon wished his room was located higher than the fourth floor. As it was, though, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the misfortune of the poor jogger he had indiscriminately doused with lukewarm Folger's.

The break in his ill temper gave him pause and time to reflect for a moment.

Fate can be cruel sometimes.

There are times when things appear to be going your way, and suddenly, without warning, the wind's direction takes a turn for the worse, and trouble arises. Many a lyric has bemoaned the cold heart of fate, and countless tales have warned of the consequences of tempting the fickle mistress.

But Fate can bear the fruit of kindness as well. For every sad tale of lost love and tragedy, there is one of happiness and fortune. Blessings large and small are attributed to Fate, though more often than not people forget to be thankful for what they have.

Thankful? Ha!

Fate has taken its fair share from me. On Sunday, it is time for Slash Tannon to begin taking Fate into his own hands, and start treating her like the worthless, miserable whore that she is.

And who would pay for this retribution? Not only one Danny Polar, but also the other viruses that was infecting SW, those inane known as Travis Miller and Ultimate Feugo

Polar, Feugo and Miller, are all a joke, a fluke.

They are but an open, festering wound on the body of Sin Wrestling, and they would continue to ooze pus until they are properly dealt with.

Deal with them I shall.

A keeper of dreams. A holder of memories. A champion for the fans. A man apart from the rest. Perhaps the last true hero.

This is what...who...I am.

And I will know the feeling of gold around my waist again.

I will have my vengeance.

Polar, Miller and Feugo, Sunday Night Impulse in New Orleans, Louisiana, will be but a taste of things to come. That TV Ttile will be mine.

Tannon's silent reflection was rudely interrupted by a loud siren from down below, followed by a woman's shriek, "Stop that man! He took my purse".

This city is being Fed-Exed to Hell in a handcart, and Theoren Fleury has the Devil on hold on line two.

"Oh well," Tannon sighed, "I have a plane to catch."

He began to sing softly as he walked back through the sliding glass into his hotel room, that old Tragically Hip song we all remember so well:

"Alright!

Bourbon blues on the street, loose and complete Under skies all smoky blue green I can't forsake a dixie dead shake So we danced the sidewalk clean My memory is muddy What's this river that I'm in? New Orleans is sinking man And I don't wanna swim

Colonel Tom, what's wrong? what's going on? You can't tie yourself up for a deal He said, Hey north you're south shut your big mouth, You gotta do what you feel is real Ain't got no picture postcards, ain't got no souvenirs My baby, she don't know me when I'm thinking bout those years

Pale as a light bulb hanging on a wire Sucking up to someone just to stoke the fire Picking out the highlights of the scenery Saw a little cloud that looked a little like me

I had my hands in the river My feet back up on the banks Looked up to the lord above And said, hey man thanks Sometimes I fell so good, I gotta scream She said Gordie baby I know exactly what you mean She said, she said, I swear to god she said

My memory is muddy What's this river that I'm in? New Orleans is sinking man and I don't wanna swim

Swim....

Four hours and fifteen minutes later...

Darkness.

He was surrounded by it, and could feel it slowly smothering him the way a wet blanket of fog might casually drift in to extinguish a campfire. The feeling was maddening, at best. He tried to escape it, but he could not see which way to go...the darkness was everywhere...

Slash Tannon sighed to himself as he shut the book of short stories he had been reading. That story would wait for another time, as he really wasn't in the mood for it. Not today, at least.

He reached forward to the small cramped space under the seat in front of him where he had put his carry-on bag, and opened the flap. He flipped through the books he had brought to occupy him on the plane trip...Stephen King's The Shining, the book of short stories that he had picked up at the airport, Brett Easton Ellis'Glamorama, and Sun Tzu's Art of War...but none of them interested him at the moment. He could practically recite Sun Tzu's philosophy word for word...yet still he brought that book with him on every trip.

Maybe the movie would be interesting... Oh. Boy. 'My Boss' Daughter'.

Tara Reid was gorgeous...but watching her kiss Ashton Kutcher might make him have to use the flight sickness bag in the flap in front of him. Perhaps another time.

'How about a magazine? They're not very informative, but they have nice pictures...'

Tannon looked to his left, at the elderly woman seated beside him. She bore a friendly smile, and was holding up a couple of the magazines that the airline provided. Of course, they were filled with nothing but advertisements and biased articles about the quality of service of the airline.

'No, thank you. They don't change the reading material very often, so there's probably not anything new in there,' Tannon replied, forcing a friendly smile.

'Oh, you fly a lot?' she asked, and upon his nod for a reply, continued. 'Well, Sam and I,' she said, pointing to her sleeping husband who miraculously hadn't awoken despite being bumped three times by people walking by, 'this is our first flight. We're going to New Orleans for our Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary. The last time we traveled, we drove up to Niagara Falls. That was our honeymoon...by the way, my name is Lillian, but you can call me Lil. Everyone else does.'

'You haven't traveled in fifty years?' Tannon asked, with raised eyebrows. 'This must be quite a trip for you then.'

'Well...Sam never had the luck of being promoted very high, and we never had much money. Oh sure, we were able to buy a little place to call our own, with a nice yard...and we were able to send all three kids to college...plus we would take them to the beach, or the amusement park, or camping...I suppose that counts as traveling...I guess what I mean is, we haven't gone on a trip where we were true guests staying in a nice hotel, going out to eat...that sort of thing. We've never been much for "jet setting."

'Well, then let's hope you have an excellent trip,' he replied. 'Louisiana is a very nice place to be this time of year.'

'If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to Louisiana?'

'Unfinished business,' Tannon replied, suddenly taking on an air of seriousness. 'Something that I want very badly, and is now within my reach. If all goes well this Sunday evening, I will be one step closer to it.'

'Well, if you'll take some advice...and you seem like a nice young man, so I think you will...here it is. The only way to combat a troublesome problem is to do it with a clear mind. If you go in there filled with anger and hate or even regret...you'll never make it through. That's something Sam told me once. He fought in World War II, when he was 18 or 19. We got married when he was 25...I was only 20 at the time. My parents liked him very much though. Here, let me wake him up for you…', Lil began to nudge at the sleeping Sam in an attempt to wake him up.

'That's not necessary at all,' Tannon said. 'Let him get his rest. But thank you for the advice.'

If only she knew the danger of the opponents he was facing, or even worse, of the danger of what would happen should he fail...she might understand.

Regrets? Not this time. Hate and anger were his weapons tonight, and he had to finish this by any means necessary. Everything had come around again, as though the clock was reset to late 1999. Gold was once more in his future. This was his chance at redeeming himself.

Polar, Miller and Feugo did not...could not...understand everything that would be on the line. Tannon's future in the company. A soon to be legacy. It could go one of two ways from this point: Glory or Ruin...there was no in between for Slash Tannon.

His run...his shot at redemption...it all began now.

And with a silent vow, he promised...within hours time...all things wrong would be made right again.

Are You Ready? For TOTAL IMPACT!!!