Title: Spring Back From The Abyss
Featuring: Yeshua Pandemonium
Date: 22/10/2015
Location: Paris
Show: Victory XL

“Why do I feel so sorry for myself?” a voice said. “This will not be the end of me I jest ye not. I was decided by them all that I wouldn’t really fit in and I will make them pay for it one way or another but that will have to wait.  When Ronald landed that kick upon my chin it was the beginning of the end. Not on my watch.” 
A black and gold mask was sat on top of a post staring forwards. Burning torches are on either side of the mask. A figure sat with his back to the camera. He was illuminated by the fire but his face cannot be seen.
It was Yeshua Pandemonium, the Demon Ringmaster. He was sat somewhere in a dark room in the romantic city of Paris. 
“Victory has not gone to plan and I know that I should have to do something extreme to make myself relevant in this promotion to get over it,” he said. “I have had a lot of time to think about what I will do whilst sat here that has led us from that fiasco. Whilst I sit amongst that squalor and degradation I muse over my future. This sort of squalor and downright brutality has been a major part of all of my adult and early childhood life and that scares me that it seems like the norm.”
He was dressed in a new gold and black "Yeshua Pandemonium" T-shirt and black trousers. His hair was shaved and he had been working out as he was sweating under the light, which ran down the back of his neck.
“Does nothing change?” he asked. “I believed I had escaped the hypocrisy when I managed to escape from the clutches of those that illegally kept me locked away from the light; those places that had illusions of grandeur when their human rights were no better than China. How could I be so wrong again? Am I that gullible? Don’t answer that.”
Yeshua stood up and walked towards the mask. He looked directly at it.
“I have never gone against myself even though I have more personalities than Bobby Dean gets anally finger banged by half of the goddamn roster but I should really talk myself out of doing something rash,” he said. “Fuck it, I will show them at the next UTA Victory what it is to be a real icon of this industry. I have forgotten more about this industry than most of these pathetic mooks that the UTA front office seems to have conned with the idea that he will make them famous.”
He caressed the mask.
“People will never learn,” he said. “Ronald may have got the best of me on my debut but I will be the last one laughing when all ends. He may have got the small victory in that battle but not in the bigger war of violence.”
He picked up the mask.
“Why do I do this to myself?” Yeshua asked. “I try to keep myself segregated from the main bulk of the roster maybe scared that we would let more violence ensue but that would never have included Yeshua, no, for I am done.”
A smile appeared on Yeshua's twisted face even though it is only his teeth that were visible in the torch light.
“Can continue to do this to my body?” he asked. “I do not want to be one of those wrestlers that seems to be just some flash in the pan, here today gone tomorrow like that other guy that wears a mask that he does not deserve to wear.”
He leaned out of the darkness and looked directly again at the mask which he had put back down before slowly leaning back.
“I would usually feel sorry for anyone scheduled to wrestle against me but they will probably have an easy week against me but not too easy if you get what I’m saying,” he said. “When I heard that it would be that moron William I thought that maybe I should roll myself up in barbwire and just lock him in some sort of bear hug until he bleeds out.  Haynes will not be as pretty as he thinks he is when we finish.”
A laugh that sounded like it was nails scratching down a blackboard escaped from his scarred mouth.
“You should know what it is I speak of William with your virtuous views of the world,” Yeshua said. “I shouldn’t be here I know. With my sin filled past it is no wonder that it has all fallen apart for me. A few months ago I was sitting on top of the world ruling the roost of that asylum in Mexico but it wasn’t to be.”
He shrugged.
“They all fled like rats trying to get away from a sinking ship once I got to the pinnacle of my power there,” Yeshua stated. “It was very cowardly of them but I can see what they saw now, now that my eyes have been opened to the bigger picture.” 
He laughed.
“The bigger picture you ask? The bigger picture is William Haynes. He could not be anywhere as good as me,” he smirked. “What an ego this man has. How much more egotistical can you really get William? His wrestling career may be just an extension of his miniscule member but he tries to act like it is all there is. Has anyone actually unlocked the reasons for why he is how he is? And they say that I need a shrink and I am only a man of questionable morals and sociological values.”
Yeshua was a bit of a random soul but he had been analysed by many a shrink.
“Where would I begin?” he asked. “William suffers from the fact that his ego and superego are constantly at war with him. This pathetic piece of excrement’s ego is constantly on the verge of collapse from ‘Ego Defence Mechanisms’ namely blocking external events from entering his reality. Of course, this is a dangerous situation, refusing to experience reality can lead to very dangerous consequences.” 
He pulled off the T-shirt to reveal the scarred and tattooed torso of that he had on.
“Denial,” he said. “This can evolve into a greater situation known as ‘Denial in Fantasy,’ whereby a lonely life of desperation can be transformed in one’s own head into a life of fame and fortune. Such a situation can only lead to repression and the eventual complete inability to recall any unpleasant situation, thus creating a life of total fantasy." 
His face was bathed in shadows.
“As we all know, the fantasy must end and isolation sets in…..often with very dramatic results. Nothing illustrates this better than the internal war between love and hate, sex and violence,” he said. “These intense feelings of isolation will turn to displacement, and the process of redirecting the impulse onto a substitute target will begin. Was this some that you have had problems with in the past? You seem to have some kind of opposite that you could not shake? This helps transfer the feelings that are too threatening and displaces them onto another person serving as a symbolic substitute.”
He shook his head.
“It’s not as if it hasn’t gone unnoticed,” he said. “In your case William, the symbolic substitute is sacrificed. This acting out will only expand your feelings of worthlessness and will begin the process of turning against the self. This will result in deep depression by refusing to accept or acknowledge feelings of inferiority.”
Yeshua visibly paused, switched gears mentally before he reached for his mask and pulled it on. He adjusted the straps at the back tightening it.  
“In most cases, this would lead to such intense self-hatred that thoughts of suicide would rise to the surface. But come on William you need to have some kind of positivity to survive in this world,” he said. “But why does everything seem to gravitate around you? Are you some kind of black hole which has this gravitational pull dragging us all kicking and screaming into your reality? Do we even exist or are we all figments of your imagination ala some kind of Matrix complex."
He looked directly into the camera lens, drilling into the souls of the viewers that were watching in their homes.
“Time for me to get myself ready,” he said. “Why do I give you so much virtual airtime with my thoughts? I should really be talking to you William Haynes directly about how this week I have supposedly been booked in a main event match which will be off the chain and put my name on the tongue of the fans sitting at home.”
He looked at the door as Dobbie appeared. He was dressed as Miley Cyrus, complete with beard. Not really too weird, not too much.
“Yeshua,” Dobbie said. “It is time to go.”

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