Some would say that I am a pathetic excuse of a human being, but that tends to come from the lips of some infidel from this United States of Mediocre that I have been wandering around these last few years trying to break into the wrestling industry.
I finally got somewhere; Plying my skills elsewhere away from this group of lack lustre self-indulging infidel’s who think that they are better than everyone else in this industry only because their egos tell them that they are the best.
The United Toughness Alliance seemed like the pinnacle of this industry but it’s all a lie. Someone hyped it all up years ago and then like Chinese whispers down the line it was believed as fact.
I have been away for a few months but returned to this shambles of a promotion to save it from itself.
He stood at the dark hotel room's covered window, one hand parting the drapes only an inch or two as he surveyed the streets outside. Abdul bin Hussain was in a happy mood as he had to be out of that country of infidels to perform in what would be the biggest show for the promotion that he had said he would never perform on before he went back into the ring for the All or Nothing match at the pay per view with the same moniker.
Nothing moved along the streets; only a tomcat on prowl for rats. There had been no vehicular traffic for the last several minutes. It was strange not to hear the sounds of gunfire and fighting in the distance even to this day; when he had lived through the battle of Basra that had been a daily thing as well as the bombings.
He caressed his beard as he straightened his suit jacket. He was disgusted by what he saw in this country. They took life for granted; Even more decadent than those damn Russians. Most of the people Abdul had seen around were arrogant, obese pathetic infidels who would sell their children for a slice of bacon.
He glanced down at a side street four floors below. A Police car was slowly cruising along the alley, its headlights blacked out as if it was on the prowl like the tomcat. Abdul smiled to himself.
Looking......constantly looking at these infidels. He turned and takes in the sight of his sister Nazirah entering the room. She was dressed completely from head to toe in a traditional burqa. The drapes fell back into place as he returned to the couch. He straightened his jacket as he sat down.
“Nazirah,” he said. “This country continues to surprises me. Its complete lack of morals and the way it degenerates into the cesspool of humanity. It is worse than I remember. The decadence that they ooze is mind blowing. With this Donald Trump potentially having a chance of coming to power then this country needs to be nuked off of the map.”
Nazirah just nodded but didn’t say anything.
Abdul turned and looked directly at her. “This week on Victory I will showcase to the world what I was not allowed to do last time I was in this promotion. I should not be a match with this Lisil person; we should be together against the rest of the UTA’s locker room. Why would they not want me in the main event against any of their supposedly top tiered talent is a mystery to me but the company does not trust for someone like me to be in their main event. No, they have put me in a match with the other minority in the promotion trying to keep us down. Why would they do that to me? Why would they? That does not make any sense does it?”
“Not really,” She said. “You would have thought they would have wanted someone of your skills back on the top of the card. You should be the World Champion, brother. Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes?” Abdul said with a surprised look upon his face. A woman challenging his supremacy shocked him. “What is your question?”
Nervously Nazirah approached her brother.
“Your question is?” Abdul asked. “I have not got all day. I need to get ready for my match with that Jamaican. I know I have been around people like La Flama Blanca and Kush before but being in a match with a token infidel in a match with myself is fairly new to me. I must be ready for all eventualities as I know what people think of me. They will throw everything at me; and your question? I have not got all day.”
“I know I have asked you before but you have never really answered me, why America?” Nazirah asked. “Why do we keep going back there? I know how much you and Rafiq hate the United States of America especially for what they did to your wife and child. I have not forgiven them for what they have done to our country let alone our family but with their infidel thoughts. So why there?”
“It is not that we hate the United States of Mediocre,” Abdul said. “It is that America hates us and our nation and that makes me happy. The people of Iraq are a proud people as are most of the other Arab nations. Since the American people put it on themselves to be the saviours of humanity and unjustly topple who they claimed to be one of the perpetrators of terror, Saddam Hussain, we have had to put up with the prejudices of not only the American peoples but most of the nations of this planet. But it seems that racism is a worldwide epidemic. With what they have done recently with their unjust bombings and now that the Russians have joined in on the hatred it just makes my blood boil.”
He motioned for her to sit down.
“Did you see the faces of the people down stairs that signed us into this hotel? Racism through and through that this country prides itself on was what we saw.” Abdul said. “You saw it in the eyes of everybody we bumped into from the airport to this hotel? Our people were living in cities of culture when the people of this country were still rolling around in huts of mud and excrement. They are scared of us. Why? It is because they are pure evil through and through. Obama may be on the way out but now the new favourite believes as do most of the overweight, inbred American people that we are all on a Jihad against the West and that they want to ban all Muslims from travelling to this country; just put yellow stars upon our clothing and put us into the gas chambers like the Nazi’s that they really are. It is pathetic to be honest that America lied to the world just so they could get one over on the rest of the world. It is all about Oil. And that is why the whole of the world hates America.”
“But what has all of that got to do with you, my brother?” Nazirah asked. “You have always wanted to be a professional wrestler even when the American’s invaded our country and destroyed it. When our country was burning why did you not pick up a gun and get revenge for our fallen brethren? Why bring the politics into the ring?”
“It is all connected.” Abdul said. “I am one of the Arab Nations premier professional wrestlers. And I have to face the world’s best. I could have gone to the United Kingdom or Japan but for some strange reason the majority of wrestlers come to the United States of America to improve their skills. And the only way for me to get noticed is to start off in the American wrestling industry in a company like the UTA. I tried it before in other wrestling companies but their prejudices against me were close to being racist so I had to leave. But then the UTA has screwed me over too, many times. But when I came third in the Ring King tournament they felt like they had been kicked in the teeth.”
“But why here? There are many promotions that would kill for a wrestler of your talent?” Nazirah stated.
“In some promotions yes, the corruption is evident.” Abdul said. “The owners line there fat pockets with the money of the pathetic fans that give it away to them. But I had researched; this company. They did seem to have a little bit of ethics. Maybe not like an Arabic one but there seems to be a few. How wrong can I have been?”
“Why Abdul?” She asked.
“It is well documented that it is not the Arabian Nations that the world should be afraid of, it is the United States of America,” said Abdul. “Not only is its leader, the leader of one of the most powerful nations on the planet not in complete control of his mental faculties but it is a nation built of bullying and scare tactics. We are not scared of his waving of his penis at the rest of the world.”
He caressed his beard.
“You see,” he said. “Lisil Jackson is UTA’s token Negro where Abdul bin Hussain is UTA’s token sand Negro. Instead of fighting each other which is what they want us to do. They keep us at logger heads instead of letting us join together against the man."
“Really?” Nazirah asked.
“Why should I really be facing this descendant of slaves?” Abdul asked. “Is Jamaica any different than lots of those other poor countries where former slaves now live in drug induced hazes believing that they are cool? Lisil will learn that much like the Jamaican Bob Sleigh team did at the Winter Olympics that he will not win this either. He has no John Candy to help him."
“John Candy?” Nazirah asked. “Is he one of Jamaica’s saviours?”
“What?” Abdul said with an astonished look on his face. “No, Lisil must be used to losing so nothing will change. He seems to want the fan admiration but that will change when he realises that they are laughing at him not with him.”
“They treat us like terrorists they deserve what they get,” Nazirah said.
“Attacks like the ones in Paris or Jakarta are committed to purposely trigger an Islamophobic backlash Nazirah,” he said. “That backlash is not an intended consequence of such attacks; it is part of their logic. ISIS wants an Islamophobic backlash because it lends credence to its narrative that there is a war between the West and Islam. By strengthening and emboldening the xenophobic right-wing in the West, they strengthen their own worldview as well. And the most tragic irony is that the backlash may target some of those innocent refugees who themselves have been fleeing the ISIS reign of terror. The West is playing into their hands.”
“Really?” Nazirah asked as she straightened her burqa. “But they believe they are doing the right thing?”
“As do others,” Abdul said. “No one has achieved peace without fighting for it. Behind every peace, there's a river of blood, sweat and tears. But if we avert our eyes from that history and abandon it, then peace might as well be a piece of Dog excrement..........But I should not be going on about this here. They have their resources. We must concentrate on me. I am a shining star for Iraq. I was a young boy brought up on the streets of Basra showing not only the United States of Mediocre but the entire world that the Arabic Nation cannot only supply it with one of the greatest fighters but that I will dominate the world at its own game.”
There was a knock at the door and the door opened. It is Rafiq. He nodded at Abdul as he entered.
Abdul looked up at his manager and said, “What can we do for you?”
Rafiq bowed slightly showing Abdul the respect of an associate. “I just came to tell you that we are due down at the hotels gym in approximately half an hour.”
“I am aware of the time.” Abdul said. “I will prevail against this infidel in the match that the power that be at the UTA and prove to the suits that they were wrong to fire me in the first place.”
He was quiet abrupt with his manager.
“Now leave us Nazirah to plan out my match strategy.” Abdul said. “We have man stuff to talk about not American women’s obsession with breast enhancement and designer vaginas.”