Title: Journal Entry #14
Featuring: Tyler Rayne
Date: Now
Location: King of Kings

I don't usually do this. This journaling... thing. It's bullshit, for the most part. Few years back... OK, more than a few, this psychiatrist told me I should start a journal to get all these pent up frustrations out. Personally I prefer to just fuck for hours and hours. In lieu of that, there's always a good thrashing.

Unfortunately, it is late. Uni's passed out. Well beyond exhausted from hours and hours of fucking. She wouldn't mind me waking her up, but... actually, I really don't know what the but is. I just don't want to disturb her. There's been a lot of shit going down lately. A lot of shit.

Like... fucking mountains.

Just the past month alone has been ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. There are not words to describe how ridiculous. Which is why I keep using the word ridiculous.

I'll stop now.

I've done the beating people up thing. That's what I do. Most of the time, I'm damn good at it. I've fucked the bejesus out of Uni. Insane. Constant. Hard. Fucking. Generally speaking, these things tend to make me feel better. Release the tension. Ease the frustration.

Yet here I am. Writing in this damn journal for what appears to be... the fourteenth time in about seven years.

Yes, I just looked.

So a little over a month ago I come home from Japan and get this call from this dude I pay to keep an eye on my security at the mansion. There was a break-in. I show up and Roxy fucking Phoenix is in my shower. Masturbating. Thinking about me while she's masturbating.

There's a whole mess of history 'tween me and her. For awhile I thought she might be it. Her and I didn't have the same connection as Uni and I, but... there was something there. It was a different kind of connection. Hard for me to even say it isn't as strong. Just... different.

Roxy Phoenix. After years of not speaking to me, she just... shows up. I knew she needed money. She's in trouble. Deep, or she wouldn't have come to me. She wanted an easy way out. Figured she could flaunt that body of hers, which by the way, has seen better. I saw it in the better days. She's not careful she'll end up looking like me.

Maybe that's part of the reason I offered her a job. I just... I saw her. The fact that she was here at all meant she had run out of options. She's a resourceful girl. I know she wouldn't have come to me unless it were her very last option. So... I had to help. I couldn't just leave out there for the wolves.

Could I?

Fuck it. She's here now. She has a job. She gets paid. And whatever she decides to do with that money... well, I just hope it helps. I'd shoot some dudes for her. If it came to that. I don't really want it to come to that, but... eh. Fortunately she's too proud to ask.

Now I come back in time for the Jewel in the Crown...

Which let me just take a moment here. How is it that I always come back for the Jewel in the Crown? Every. Fucking. Year. Some asshole puts me down and I come back just in time to lose this fucking tournament.

How many times have Emo and his merry band of circle jerking ass monkeys put me down? Kai asked, actually. Before I came back. I can't fuckin' remember anymore.

So I come back for the JitC, which as I just noted is a big fucking albatross for me anyway... and I get stuck in a match with Tom Walczak. Polish. Of all the gin joints in all the world, he had to walk back into mine. I'm like that dude's personal fucking punching bag. Of course I lost.

Which leaves me... where? I'm out of the tournament. Out of the Universal Championship hunt once again. Which I'm actually pretty OK with considering that thing is nothing but gods damned trouble. Still.

I feel... unimportant.

My own fault, mostly. I haven't been making things happen.

Sometimes I think it was a mistake to come back.

I look around and all I see are bad dreams. Emo and Daniels have the entire staff scared shitless. After what happened to Mills... Christ. Who can blame them? Every time I see the two of them together...

They killed me. It's not something people speak about often. Even I make jokes about it. Just to ease the... I don't know. I don't even know. They killed me. And I work for them.

How the fuck does that add up?

It's not just that, though. There's Walczak. This mother fucker I could just never beat. Like walking fucking kryptonite. Speaking of him, we've got King of Kings. Where I get to face him. Again. With his tag team partner.

Jakob.

On the list of people I want to stick a sword through, he ranks number three behind Emo and Daniels. Fortunately I already stuck Se7yn, or Jakob might be a little lower on the list. Here's another history lesson. These people just never fucking go away.

He's more Katt's problem than mine, to be honest. They had a thing. Then I think they tried to kill each other. He and I tried to kill each other a time or two. We never really liked one another to begin with, but I sorta just let it slide since him and Katt were cool. After that went south, though...

I've got no problem beating the shit out of either of these fucks. Teaming with Katt, too... well, that was just poor booking on someone's part. There is no one better suited to be my tag partner. No one. Period. Not Lindsay. Not Roxy. Not Tink. No one. Katt and I... shit. I killed her father. Stabbed him straight through the gut and kicked his ass off a cliff. She was mad for awhile. Understandable. But she came back. When I needed her. When I needed help.

Also, she's been really fucking bored.

We'll have fun at King of Kings. In all honesty, I'm kinda looking forward to it. I really do love kicking ass with that girl. It's just... I dunno.

It all seems so pointless. Futile. So what if we beat Polish and Jakob? Where the hell does that get us?

Me.

I need something else. Something more. That's the problem, really. That's what's keeping me up at night. I have no purpose. No greater sense of... self.

Huh. Well there ya go. Maybe these journals do help after all.
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