A Land of Rising Violence (#2)

[Jesse Jamester]

Opening to a clean white tile floor in a hallway decorated with art and artifacts of history on the walls. The camera turns to focus on a single wooden oak door with a frosted window that has ‘J-ROK CEO’ etched in black Japanese letters. From the viewpoint of the frosted window we see the door open and the warmly lit office setting comes into focus.

Behind the desk resides a chair that begins to turn slowly, dramatically almost, only it is abruptly spun completely around to reveal Nausicaa Suzuki sitting. Perched on her lap was her stuffed cat. Petting the attachment of her taxidermy friend, Nausicaa’s smile breaks to reveal her ever so radiant personality.

[The following dialogue is translated from their native tongues for the convenience of the reader.]

Nausicaa: (In Japanese) Hello. How may I help—

A look of confusion washes over the face of Suzuki, as the spinning chair comes to a halt facing the door.

Nausicaa: Hello? (pause) Is anyone there?

Her eyes become suspicious as the sound of shoe soles smacking tile floor are heard in the room. Reaching for an envelope opener lying to her left, she clutches her stuffed cat in her right armpit and jumps to her feet prepared to defend herself.

Nausicaa: I will defend my beauty at all costs! Run now or else—

Voice: (throat clearing)

Eyes now bulging wide like the owl of the night, Nausicaa Suzuki leans forward over her desk with the golden envelope blade at the ready.

Nausicaa: Aaaah!

Taken back by the sight before her, Nausicaa lets out a heavy sigh of relief and places the instrument down on her desk. Standing on the other end of her desk was a man, no more than three and a half feet tall, wearing suspenders over a button up white business shirt and slick black dress pants, and complemented by the smallest black pointy dress shoes in all of Japan. His slicked back pepper white hair was as bright as his green eyes that looked up at SKY Force’s Suzuki.

Voice: My name is Kieran Roth. We spoke the day before last regarding my client.

Nodding, Nausicaa’s apprehension converts to enthusiasm as she waves her hand for Kieran to have a seat.

Nausicaa: My apologies Mister Roth. I did not expect you so soon. Please, take a seat.

Staring at her, he lifts his hand from his side with a large envelope and slips it on the desk before him.

Kieran: I prefer to stand.

Seeing the professionalism in his stature, even though it was petite even to her, Nausicaa nods. Reaching once more for her golden letter opener, she opens the corner and proceeds to split the envelope open. After a few moments of reviewing its contents, she sets it down on the desk and picks up a pen. Eagerness to seal the deal that would bring the Murder Lizard to Japan’s pride and joy that is J-ROK.

Nausicaa: The arrangements that were requested have been made. Now all I need to do is sign this and it is official!

Her smile spills ear to ear. A proud moment for the Suzuki Blitz Wrestling owner as she inks the dotted line and extends her hand over the desk.

Nausicaa: It is a pleasure doing business with you Mister Roth. I hope that you both find your time in Japan to be fulfilling and prosperous.

Kieran: The pleasure is all mine. However I have to admit, I was unsure you would agree to the Tour of Violence stipulations that my client was adamant about.

Taken back by the mischievous grin that flashes on Mister Roth’s face. Kieran’s features bordered a mix of the horror icon Chucky and the Gringotts Goblins of the Wizarding World. Seconds of stillness pass in the office before Nausicaa returns a smile of her own. Returning a handshake at the edge of her desk, Kieran nods before turning on his heel and walking towards the door.

Nausicaa: Oh, I almost forgot!

Opening a desk drawer to her right, Suzuki removes a hand size black box with an accompanying envelope. Walking around the desk, she leans over and hands the black box and envelope to a curious Kieran. Removing his hands from his suspenders, Mister Roth looks up to Suzuki with a quizzical look in his emerald gaze.

Nausicaa: This letter arrived on my desk for your client earlier today. As you will notice, the package is also addressed to Mister Jamester as well. Please make sure he receives these, as I was told, it is of the utmost importance that he does.

Nodding with a look of more questions than answers, Kieran tucks the envelope in the waistband of his back so the crossing suspenders keep it secure. Turning, he exits the room, carrying the small black box with care and hesitation — knowing full well what the last package his client received had accomplished.

---

“Talk about legacies and destiny is being thrown around like coins in a fountain. Folks think they have some grand plan for winning a Rumble, some great higher power that will pave the way.

They are wrong!

Luck will only get you so far. Prayers only mask the doubt you have in yourself. Wishes for dreams to come true and moping around when reality hits them dead-on.

Why don’t you people try and work for something for once?! Why not aye? Is it that hard to show your committed to winning? To dare to be more than a make-a-wish participant?

Because let me be blunt here for a second.

If I hear one more person tell me that this is their destiny, that they are the end all be all and fate has brought them to the Rumble to win the X*Crown championship —


I’m gonna kick your teeth into the nosebleeds section!”


Gritting his teeth as he rubs his fist into his other palm, we get a full lens shot of the King of Violence. The Murder Lizard was finally back in Japan.

Behind him the streets are lit up with neon signs dressed in the traditional Japanese calligraphy. The culture of this great nation is stamped on entry ways of buildings, paid logos on cars, street signs, and fashion apparel everywhere. In the distance the locals are seen crossing the street to avoid the presence of the Murder Lizard’s behemoth stature. Standing outside a dojo, the Murder Lizard cracks his neck.

“We wrestle our whole lives trying to find purpose, trying to become fruitful of a trade that we can be proud of aye. When I say it takes a fuck ton more than luck to make it in this business, I mean it with every scar on my body.

It takes sacrifice.

Sacrifice that quite honestly the majority of these Rumble entrants can only talk about from stories they heard and movies they watched.

Earning my shot?

Well let me take you on a stroll down nostalgia drive. Earning my way, that’s the tale of my entire career folks. It’s no different in the Rumble this year than it was over twenty years ago when I sacrificed everything and came to Japan for the first time.

Contrary to the point Dylan Black shared of me. How the Mean ole’ Murder Lizard hasn’t contributed anything to the XHF since arriving.

Let me tell you, that bull — is full of shit.

I hoisted a barely relevant company in Canada on my back and carried it like a cartoon coyote does an anvil for near two years. Not only did my name value fill seats, but I lifted a promoter and a roster of unknowns from the ground and took them to mountain peaks they never dreamed of!

Men like Eron Hunter, Scott Steel, Donzig, Primal, Keith Williams, and even the EVIL one Lord Dominicus all benefited from my ability to draw an audience. HELL! They even flourished in my glow some would argue. My presences and competition produced triple crown champions, Junior Heavyweight champions, XHF tag team competition and X*Crown challengers that made the XHF thee place to be.

I know, I know — but what did Jesse accomplish you ask?

I carved my name in every ring I wrestled by making the XHF respect my name. Not because they saw gold and wanted their chance at glory, no Dylan — they saw me as a threat that could ruin everything if they crossed my path.

Not to forget the whole gimmick biting that was the Pillars of Violence. Many would argue it gave PRICE his second wind. That dying dog road the scales of my success straight to the top — and then what did he do with it?


Abso-fuckin-lutelty NOTHING!


High King my ass…

You're high on your success big baby Black. Now it’s time that Daddy Murder Lizard beat that ass once more! Don’t get kink-shamed because I called myself Daddy; I know Zaddy Zoran and you have some bond that rivals the kinkiest shit CopyCat and Terry Bradshaw do.”

Pausing as the dojo door opens and a group of sumo wrestlers begin to pour out past him and cross the street.

“You see, I am not the same man I was in 2021.

I’m not tied to a Canadian promoter who needed a hero to sell tickets. Nor am I bound by the chains of the Scourge.

I am unchained from the XHF’s most overrated Bear circus known to wrestlers greater than them. The shackles are off! This Rumble marks the start of the most violent era of wrestling you or anyone in the XHF will ever witness.”

A smile appears beneath the grizzly beard.

“Nobody is safe. No false high king, no Zoran, no streaming special acclaimed stars, no CAR representatives, no XHF evil cartoon cape crusaders..

Not a single soul is safe.”

Dropping his hood, the Murder Lizard leans back on a wall behind him.

“My only mission now is to take every opportunity I find and bend it, break it, or beat it bloody to get what I want.”

All things return to where they began. The Murder Lizard in the Rumble and returning to Japan are one in the same.

Fitting isn’t it?

It was the XHF Rumble where I turned the heads of the XHF fans and all members of its rosters. It was feast or famine with the Canadian Nightmare in the picture.

The only difference now..

I am a more ruthless unforgiving version of that nightmare.

I do not thirst for glory as a fan favorite - to hear my name chanted by millions does nothing for me.

Instead, my aim is to break the hearts of each and every Rumble competitor that steps in my way to getting my hands on you Dylan!”

Rain begins to trickle down from the sky. The Murder Lizard raises his head up, letting the rain drops hit his face.

“The Murder Lizard’s return to Japan is only the start of it. The place Dylan Black left in spite will get its reptilian Ronin back. The place of origin for the legend that is — the King of Violence.

The land of the rising sun will be blessed with the blood of a thousand sons by my hands. Prepare yourselves XHF, for my reign of violence is here.”

The dojo doors open behind him. Appearing before him with a bow, a dojo sensei gives Jesse the hand signal he apparently was waiting for. Nodding back, Jesse enters the archway and the door closes behind him.

---

“This came for you.”

Standing before the Murder Lizard’s feet, mid sit-up mind you, is his agent Kieran Roth. Holding the black box with both hands firmly, Kieran outstretches his arms to pass the package to Jesse.

Jesse: Who gave this to you?

Kieran: Miss Suzuki, sir.

Skeptical, the Murder Lizard finishes his sit-up before propping himself up to meet his agent face to chest. Even on his arse, Jesse’s body towers over Kieran as he stands upright. This Danny DeVito-Arnold Schwarzenegger comparison was a new and odd relationship, but one that appeared to be built on respect. Without another word, Jesse takes the black box and nods to Kieran. Unspoken in response, Kieran Roth’s disproportionate size sausage fingers open the letter as Jesse does the same with the black box.

Kieran: It reads, “The misery of your sacrifice will be taken from those you keep in your company. Signed, M.”

Dropping the lid off the box, the Murder Lizard’s face is contorted with anger immediately. Lowering the box for Kieran to see it’s contents, the agent turns his head away with haste and a sense of disgust.

Inside lay a single bloody eyeball. The top of the lid shows a single name, ‘Clyde’.

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