San Francisco Bay.
Home of the island prison known to the world as Alcatraz.
Alcatraz Island has been home to many prisoners over the years, most famously; Al Capone, Robert Franklin Stroud (the Birdman of Alcatraz), George "Machine Gun" Kelly, Bumpy Johnson, James "Whitey" Bulger, and Alvin "Creepy" Karpis (who served more time at Alcatraz than any other inmate) to name a few.
However, around this time of year it becomes the home to High Octane Wrestling and the legendary Solitary Confinement match, and recent prisoners of notice have been Mike Best, John Sektor, Max Kael, Rhys Townsend, and myself to name a few that have been a constant fixture on the island prison.
Instead we aren’t in Solitary Confinement as we have been confined to the cells for Death Row Prisoners and when I’m not booked in UTA or HOW matches I’m confined to my own personal cell to rot away in until I’m called away to compete.
That means no phones, tablets, television, etc.
We are cut off from the rest of our thoughts with only our thoughts and my fellow other prisoners charming insults for company.
We even have our very own personal guards watching us so there isn’t any shenanigans.
It’s sometime in the evening, but you couldn’t tell from my perspective as there isn’t any windows or clocks to let me know what time it is or if it’s dark or light outside these concrete walls that have been housing me since the last time you saw me on Wrestle UTA television.
After every Wrestleshow I’m flown back here to Alcatraz prison as per the conditions of my match rules in High Octane Wrestling and have to stay in this six by eight prison cell. I’ve done this plenty of times over the years and every year you get more use to it, but this year instead of being in Solitary we are in the Death Row cells and they are like a five star hotel compared to the shit hole that is Solitary.
I mean I have a cot to sleep on instead on the dirty, concrete floor.
I have a bucket to shit and piss in.
I get three meals a day.
Hell, I even have a window called the sliding cell door with the iron bars instead of the solid steel door in Solitary.
The great things about being in the prison cell is that you have a lot of time to yourself to reflect on the things you did wrong and how to avoid it happening again, and for me the thing I did wrong was losing to Bronson Box.
Now there is no shame in losing to Bronson as I gave him everything I could and I refused to give up to his submission hold rather choosing to pass out than tap out.
The wrong is that I’m once again back to square one in trying to prove myself in Wrestle UTA as I try to climb up the ladder of success and try and earn shots at not only championships, but also matches with people the caliber of a Bronson Box.
“Babe, I’m telling you I’ll be home in time for dinner.” the sound of conversation has peeked my interest as I slowly sit up off of my cot and look through the iron bars to see one of the EPU guards talking on a cell phone.
As the guard continues to have a conversation with his significant other I can’t help but smile as he isn’t suppose to have any electronics, but he’s snuck a phone in against Lee Best’s wishes, and I can use this to my advantage.
The guard paces back and forth and I slowly make my way towards the front of the cell. I stand there peering through the bars with my hands behind my back as is I was Hannibal Lecter waiting on Clarice Starling.
After a while of watching the guard I guess he got that eerie feeling that he was being watched as he stopped talking and turned his attention towards the prison cell to see me grinning from ear to ear.
“The fuck do you want Stevens?” the ole so joyful man known simply as Thompson asks me.
“You know your not suppose to have that phone in here.” I remind Thompson who simply waves me off.
“And what are you going to do? Cry to Mr. Best?” he replies snarkly as he goes back to talking on his phone.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, and I would think with your wife or girl friend about to go into labor at any time that your cannot afford to lose this job with the amount of money you’re being paid.” I say to Thompson who stops in his tracks and tells his woman that he will call her back.
“What do you want?”
I smile and point to the phone.
“Forget it.” he says as he goes to put it into his pocket.
“Then you can kiss your job goodbye.” I say as I turn to go back towards my cot.
“Wait. Wait.” Thompson says as he slowly approaches the cell. “You have five minutes.” he informs me as he puts his arm in between the bars and hands me the phone.
I nod and slowly take the black iPhone 6 from him.
Thompson steps away from the cell and goes back to “guarding” as if everything is normal while I take a seat on my cot, and start hitting the buttons on the phone. As I bring up the video feature on the smart phone I notice myself for the first time in days, and it’s not a pretty sight; my beard is unkempt and stubble is growing in and down my neck. My hair is a mess and greasy looking. I have bags under my eyes as I haven’t had a comfortable night’s rest in weeks. Most importantly, my face is broken out in acne and has dirt on it has I haven’t had a shower in days.
I hit the big red circle to start recording as I bring the phone up to my face.
“Hi there, sorry for my appearance as we all can’t be living in the lap of luxury in Cairo.” I say with a smile. “While everyone is trying to solve the riddle of the Great Sphinx, or enjoying the Pyramids of Giza, I’m recuperating on my very on private island until it’s time for me to Egypt and take on the Dr. Lovegood, Lucious Jones.” I say as I pan the camera around the cell to show the world my five star accommodations.
“First, I want to give props and credit to Bronson Box. The guy’s good. I gave him everything I had and it still wasn’t enough to gain the victory and move forward in the tournament to get a shot at John Sektor and the Legacy Championship. I know he could careless but I wish him luck as he has some stiff competition ahead, and I’m going to use what I’ve learned from our match going forward into my match this week against Lucious Jones.
I’m not going to lie and say I’m familiar with Lucious because I’m not. As you can see from my circumstances I don’t have the luxury of asking UTA officials for film on Lucious to study and get myself acquainted with, but from the eye test I know he’s big, he’s young, and he’s built like a brick shit house, and that can mean a few different things. First, he’s your typical bodybuilder where he might be strong, but he has no cardio and endurance if the match was to get in the twenty minute range. Another thing could be that his muscles are for show and he’s a big pussy underneath that chiseled physique. However, there is one last thing, and I believe this to be him. I believe Lucious to come from an athletic background such as basketball and/or football so not only does he have good conditioning, his cardio is through the roof, and he very durable and athletic for a man of his size. I believe that his muscle mass isn’t for show and given his youth maybe stronger than me, and not a lot of people can say that can out power me in terms of strength.
The thing is I won’t know until I step into the ring this Monday night, and that has me a little worried. I mean I had plenty of time to prepare for Bronson Box, and I lost, and I have virtually a day or two at most to prepare for Lucious after I’m released from here Friday night.
The only thing I can do while I’m locked in here is guess and formulate a strategy around that while Lucious has the fortunate access to the UTA video archive to scout and prepare for me, but I’m not going to let my unfortunate circumstances get to me because that would be an excuse and I’m trying to get away from excuses all together. I put myself here, and I have to follow the match rules and if this was UTA I would be doing the same thing.
Come Monday night in Cairo I will be ready for the good doctor. Whether I defeat him by pinfall, submission, or knockout from my body odor, I’m coming to Egypt with one thing in mind and that is to win a fucking match!”
Stevens says passionately as he hits a few buttons before submitting the video and the EPU guard taps on the bars with his baton.
“Times up Stevens.” Thompson informs me as I get up from my cot and hand him back his phone.
"[on the subject of Robot Pete's e-fedding hobby] ANOTHER great example of a distraction! I mean, seriously, you wrestle for a living, why do you feel like you also need to write immature power fantasies with a bunch of barely-literate e-slackers?"
- Uncle Rocky