From Jobber to Superstar...The Knuckles Story.

[Henhouse]

--- Wednesday, Week 2, January 2010 ---

 

"My name is Peter Roach and I am a former SWF World Tag Team Champion." A feeble attempt to reassure myself that I'll be fine after this meeting. "Hey, maybe it's just a little meeting to discuss future plans for me..."

I'm waiting outside Richard Eisen's office trying to procrastinate entering. I have only spoken to this great man once, albeit briefly. It was something along the lines of: "Congratulations on winning the tag belts. You're doing okay."

Even when myself and Shady signed for SWF, we didn't talk with Eisen. We faxed the signed contract to his office.

Whatever this meeting is for, it won't be good news. I slowly knock on the door and gently push it open.

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"Take a seat..." Richard trails off whilst checking a small sheet of paper in his hand. "Knuckles, right?"

I remain silent, wishing that the seat would swallow me whole.

"We're very worried about you, Knuckles." He begins and I blink several times to try and dry my eyes. This is it.

"You have virtually no momentum whatsoever and you and your partner...uh...Special K have been little more than jobbers for a while now."

Shady would laugh at the fact Eisen didn't know who we were. I wonder if he'll be released too. Part of me hopes so, we can roam the indies together, maybe pick up work at TCW or USPW. But part of me hopes he'll stay and have a singles career, he was always the better wrestler.

"We're very worried." He repeats again before clearing his throat. I wonder why Richard isn't getting straight to the point and firing me.

"I personally think Special K can be repackaged, we already have an idea that he could perhaps be Vengeance's lackey." As he says this, I feel overwhelming relief for Shady. His career isn't over.

"You on the other hand are deadweight. And I'm afraid we don't have much for you." He continues. My stomach sinks once more, the small flicker of hope that I might be repackaged or sent to Rhode Island has been snuffed out.

"Or at least that's what I think. Peter Michaels has a different idea altogether. He has a gimmick in mind for you."

"Huh?" Perhaps not the most professional response...but it's the only thing I could think to say. I cannot help but feel angry with myself as it comes out little more than a whisper.

"It's a bit of an odd gimmick. I suppose you could liken it to an early Skull Debones." He says. I feel even more confused. "Knuckles...we're sending you straight to the top. It's sink or swim. You're going to become The Anarchist's Angel."

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